ESCAPE OF HANS. 
197 
A large troop of lions that had been feasting on 
a giraffe in the early morning, had obliterated his 
tracks; and it was not until some days after¬ 
wards, when the carcase was in a state of de¬ 
composition, that his death was ascertained. He 
breathed his last very near to where we were 
“ at fault; ” but, in prosecuting the search, we 
had unfortunately taken exactly the opposite di¬ 
rection. 
The escape of Hans, my faithful follower—who, 
as elsewhere said, was a most daring and successful 
hunter—from the jaws of an infuriated lion, was 
also very remarkable. He told me the story as we 
were one day passing in company the spot where 
the incident occurred, and I give it in his own 
words:— 
“ I was riding on c ox-back ’ during broad day¬ 
light,” said he, “ along the dry bed of the Swakop, 
when I saw something dusky by the side of an 
acacia tree two hundred yards off. This was a lion. 
He rose and walked leisurely towards me. I had 
my 6 gun-bag 5 by the side of the saddle, and rode 
on, for there is no use in provoking hostilities sin¬ 
gle-handed with a lion unless some object is to be 
gained, as every sportsman at length acknowledges. 
The coolest hand and the best shot are never safe, 
for a bullet, however well aimed, is not certain to 
disable the beast. After the lion had walked some 
twenty or thirty yards, the ox on which I was 
mounted either saw or smelt him, and became 
furious. I had enough to do to keep my seat, for a 
powerful long-horned ox tossing his head about, 
