114 THE STORY OF THE LION. 



in thick beds of reeds, where such are to be found, or in drier districts, among 

 thickets and bushes. 



The most Hkely places in the bush country in which to find lions, as far 

 as my experience goes, are the rekabee thorns, the dense evergreens which 

 line the rivers, and, during summer, the reeds on the margin of lagoons or 

 streams, while in the open flats any patch of reeds or tall grass suffices to 

 conceal them.. The best chances for killing them are obtained in the first- 

 mentioned spots, as you often come across them asleep when you are stealing 

 about after game. From these and similar haunts, the lion issues forth at 

 sundown to commence his nightly prowls; dark and stormy nights being 

 those on which he is most active, while he is more cautious during bright 

 moonlight nights, especially as regards his visits to the drinking-places. 



Unlike most of his congeners, the lion is not a climber, and this general 

 inability to ascend trees has saved the lives of many sportsmen and travelers, 

 although not unfrequently at the cost of a long and thirsty, waiting. 



From observing both lions and tigers in their native haunts I am of 

 opinion that the former are bolder than the latter, while they are certainly 

 far more noisy. The first peculiarity that struck me in the African lions was 

 their noisiness. I have constantly been for months together in countries in 

 India abounding in tigers without hearing their cry. Indeed, it is by no 

 means a common sound in any Indian forest. Leopards, I should say, are 

 much more frequently heard* than tigers. ■ The cry of the two animals, 

 commonly known as roaring, though it is utterly different from the harsh 

 growl of anger to which the term might most appropriately be applied, is 

 very similar, and consists of several deep notes uttered rather quickly one 

 after the other, and repeated at longer and shorter intervals. 



Very different impressions appear to be produced on different persons by 

 the lion's roar, some listeners appearing to regard it as a rather commonplace 

 and by no means awe-inspiring sound, while others, and we believe the majority, 

 speak of it in far different terms. Such differences of impression must, it is 

 obvious, be largely due to personal disposition. 



Perhaps the lowest estimation of the lion's roar is that of Livingstone. 

 He writes that "it is calculated to inspire fear when heard in a pitchy dark 

 night amidst the tremendous peals of an African thunderstorm, and the vivid 

 flashes of lightning which leave on the eye the impression of stone-blindness, 

 while the rain pouring down extinguishes the fire, and there is neither the 

 protection of a tree nor a chance that your gun will go off. But when 

 any one is snug in a house or a wagon, the roar of the lion mspires no awe. 



