-* The Capturing of a Lion 



notice of lions, though they hold themselves at a respectful 

 distance from them. 



In spite of my want of success, I decided to try my luck 

 once more, though the surroundings of my camp were not 

 very alluring and game was very scarce with the exception 

 of a herd of ostriches, which for hours together haunted 

 the vicinity. I hoped this time the lioness would be 

 bagged. But no, I never came across her or her young 

 again. 



Instead, on the fourth morning, I found a good maned 

 specimen — an old male — at my mercy. Loud roars 

 announced the fact of his capture to me from afar. The 

 first thing was to discover whether he was firmly held by 

 the iron, and also whether he was unhurt. I assured 

 myself of both these points after some time, with great 

 trouble and difficulty, and, needless to add, not without 

 considerable danger. I leave the reader to imagine for 

 himself the state of mind in which one approaches the 

 King of Beasts in such circumstances. I can vouch for it 

 that one does so with a certain amount of respect for His 

 Majesty. 



The roaring of an enraged lion, once heard, is never 

 to be forgotten. It is kept up by my captive without 

 intermission, a dull heavy rumble suddenly swelling to a 

 tremendous volume of sound. The expression of its face 

 and head, too, show fierce anger and threaten danger. 

 The terrible jaws now scrunch the branches within reach, 

 now open menacingly. 



It was now necessary to free the lion from the trap 

 and to bring it into camp. It would take a week to get 



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