582 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS. 



so hot that he could scarcely bear his naked feet to touch 

 it, and kept moving them, alternately placing one above the 

 other. The day passed, and the night also, but the lion 

 never moved from the spot; the sun rose again, and its 

 intense heat soon rendered his feet past feeling. At noon 

 the lion rose and walked to the water, only a few yards 

 distant, looking behind as it went, lest the man should move, 

 and seeing him stretch out his hand to take his gun, turned 

 in a rage, and was on the point of springing upon him. The 

 animal went to the water, drank, and returning, lay down 

 again at the edge of the rock. Another night passed ; the 

 man, in describing it, said, he knew not whether he slept, but 

 if he did, it must have been with his eyes open, for he always 

 saw the lion at his feet. Next day, in the forenoon, the 

 animal went again to the water, and while there, he listened 

 to some noise apparently from an opposite quarter, and dis- 

 appeared in the bushes. The man now made another effort, 

 and seized his gun ; but on attempting to rise, he fell, his 

 ankles being without power. With his gun in his hand, he 

 crept towards the water, and drank ; but looking at his feet, 

 he saw, as he expressed it, his " toes roasted," and the skin 

 torn off with the grass. There he sat a few moments, expect- 

 ing the lion's return, when he was resolved to send the 

 contents of the gun through its head; but as it did not 

 appear, tying his gun to his back, the poor man made the 

 best of his way on his hands and knees, to the nearest 

 path, hoping some solitary individual might pass. He could 

 go no farther, when, providentially, a person came up, who 

 took him to a place of safety, from whence he obtained help, 

 though he lost his toes, and was a cripple for life. 



The preceding lion stories, selected from many more, will 

 ?erve for the present to illustrate something of the character 

 f that noble, but dangerous creature. 



Here is another from Moffat, of quite as curious though 

 rather of the opposite and a more grotesque nature. 



