146 THE GAMBIAN LION, 
to find, and indeed is in no way particular whether it be tainted or otherwise. So 
thoroughly is this the case, that Lion-hunters are in the habit of decoying their mighty 
game by means of dead antelopes or oxen, which they lay near some water-spring, knowing 
well that the Lions are sure to seize so excellent an opportunity of satisfying at the same 
time the kindred appetites of thirst and hunger. 
In default of larger game, the Lion feels no hesitation in employing his mighty paw 
in the immolation of the small rodents, and frequently makes a meal on locusts, diversified 
with an occasional lizard or beetle. Led by implanted instinct, this animal will, when 
water is not to be found, quench its thirst by devouring the juicy water-melons that so 
marvellously store up the casual moistures of the desert, which would otherwise be 
exhaled in vapour before the fierce rays of the burning sun. Many other carnivorous 
animals, and one or two carnivorous birds, are known to possess the same instinctive 
knowledge. The scientific name of this water-melon is “Cucumis Caffer,” and its native 
title “ Kenowe,” or “ Kéme.” 
That a carnivorous animal should voluntarily take to vegetable food is a very curious 
fact, and seems to argue a high state of intellectual power. It is true that herbivorous 
animals, such as the rhinoceros and others, will resort to the same plant for the purpose of 
quenching their thirst ; but then it must be remembered that these latter creatures are but 
following their usual dietary system, while the Lion is acting in a manner directly opposed 
to his own flesh-loving nature. 
The cautious habits which the Lion acquires when its domain has been invaded by 
man are most singular, and exhibit a considerable degree of reasoning power. The Lion 
which has never known man, knows no fear at the sight of man and his deadly weapons, 
attacking him with as much freedom as it would attack an antelope. But after it has had 
some experience of man and his wiles, it can only be induced by the calls of pressing 
hunger to venture upon an open attack, or to approach any object that looks as if it 
might be a trap. 
Lions have been known to surround an escaped horse, and to prowl round it for two 
entire days, not daring to attack so apparently defenceless a prey, simply because its 
bridle was dangling from its neck, and made the creatures suspicious, even though the 
rein had accidentally been hitched over a stump. On another occasion, a Lion crept 
close to a haltered ox, saw the halter, and did not like it, crept away again until he reached 
a little hillock about three hundred yards away, and there stood and roared all night. 
The hunters take advantage of this extreme caution to preserve the game which they 
have killed from any marauding Lion that may happen to pass in that direction. A simple 
white streamer tied to a stick, and waving over the dead beast, is amply sufficient to 
prevent the Lions from approaching so uncanny an object. Sometimes, when no streamer 
can be manufactured, a kind of clapper is substituted, which shakes in the wind, and by 
the unaccustomed sound, very much alarms the Lion. It does truly seem absurd, that so 
terrible a beast as the Lion should be frightened by the fluttering of a white handkerchief, 
or the clattering of two sticks—devices which Would be laughed to scorn by a tomtit 
of ordinary capacity. 
Nearly all the feline animals seize their prey by the back of the neck, but the Lion 
seems to prefer the flank or shoulders as his point of attack. It seldom happens that the 
Lion springs upon the back of his prey, as is the case with many of the felide, for in the 
chase of a large animal, he chooses rather to pull down the doomed creature by main 
strength, his hinder feet resting on the earth, and his fore-paws and fangs tearing deeply 
into the neck and shoulders of his victim. There are, of course, exceptional instances, 
but the general rule seems to be that the Lion either strikes down his prey with a furious 
blow of his paw, or drags it to the ground by hanging on its neck with teeth and 
claws. 
The young of the Lion are various in number, sometimes amounting to three or four 
at a birth, thus entirely contraverting the well-known fable of the Lioness and Fox. For 
some time, the young Lion cubs present a curious appearance, their fur being faintly 
brindled in a manner very similar to that of the tiger, or, to give a more familiar illustra- 
tion, resembling the coat of a tabby cat, very indistinctly marked upon a light tawny 
