NORTH-EASTERN RHODESIA 115 



But he took very little interest in his offspring 

 — indeed he was a most undutiful parent — and 

 a few days after the birth of the cubs he forsook 

 her and wandered away on his own account. 

 In a few months he had roamed nearly to Lake 

 Mweru. Sometimes he had hunted with other 

 wandering lions, and sometimes he had killed 

 entirely on his own account. Several adventures 

 had befallen him, and one certainly calls for 

 mention, for it was really the turning-point of 

 his career. One dark night he was prowling 

 around on the banks of the Chambezi River with 

 three other lions. They had hunted there for 

 many days and the game was very wary, so an 

 old lion suggested a little strategy. Leo Major 

 wandered away from the river, and the lion of 

 this little story and his two companions crouched 

 down by its banks. Presently the old lion 

 roared and roared until the air seemed to vibrate. 

 A great troop of zebra heard his roars and got 

 his wind — the old lion had carefully studied 

 wind before he commenced roaring. They 

 stampeded with snorts and barks of terror and 

 rushed straight into the jaws of the three lions 

 ambushed by the river. Our friend had pulled 

 down a fine old stallion, and when Leo Major 

 came down to the Chambezi and wanted to 

 share the spoil, he keenly resented the intrusion. 

 A terrible fight ensued, and our friend got badly 

 bitten through a leg and the back of his neck, 

 and was also unfortunate enough to run a sharp 

 thorn up into the tender pad of his foot in the 

 fracas. Several days he lay in the shade of a great 

 rock and none came to comfort or tend him. 

 Gradually his leg and neck wounds healed up, 

 but the foot festered and, though ravenously 



