HABITS OF THE UON. 1 25 



and as this is his only source of subsistence now, he con- 

 tinues it. From this circumstance has arisen the idea that 

 the lion, when he has once tasted human flesh, loves it 

 better than any other. A man-eater is invariably an old 

 lion ; and when he overcomes his fear of man so far as to 

 come to villages for goats, the people remark, M His teeth 

 are worn, he will soon kill men." They at once acknow- 

 ledge the necessity of instant action, and turn out to kill 

 him. When living far away from population, or when, as 

 is the case in some parts, he entertains a wholesome dread 

 of the Bushmen and Bakalahari, as soon as either disease 

 or old age overtakes him, he begins to catch mice and 

 other small rodents, and even to eat grass ; the natives, 

 observing undigested vegetable matter in his droppings, 

 follow up his trail in the certainty of finding him scarcely 

 able to move under some tree, and despatch him without 

 difficulty. The grass may have been eaten as medicine, 

 as is observed in dogs. 



That the fear of man often remains excessively strong 

 in the carnivora is proved from well-authenticated cases in 

 which the lioness, in the vicinity of towns where the large 

 game had been unexpectedly driven away by fire-arms, 

 has been known to assuage the paroxysm of hunger by 

 devouring her own young. It must be added that, though 

 the effluvium which is left by the footsteps of man is in 

 general sufficient to induce lions to avoid a village, there 

 are exceptions ; so many came about our half -deserted 

 houses at Chonuane while we were in the act of removing to 

 Kolobeng, that the natives who remained with Mrs. Living- 

 stone were terrified to stir out-of-doors in the evenings. 

 Bitches also have been known to be guilty of the horridly 

 unnatural act of eating their own young, probably from 

 the great desire for animal food, which is experienced by 

 the inhabitants as well. 



When a Hon is met in the daytime, a circumstance by no 

 means unfrequent to travellers in these parts, if precon- 

 ceived notions do not lead them to expect something very 

 " noble," or " majestic," they will see merely an animal 

 somewhat larger than the biggest dog they ever saw, and 

 partaking very strongly of the canine features ; the face 

 is not much like the usual drawings of a lion, the nose 

 being prolonged like a dog's ; not exactly such as our 

 painters make it, though they might learn better at the 

 Zoological Gardens ; their ideas of majesty being usually 



