364 
CARNIVORES. 
“ The most likely places in the bush country in which to find lions,” observes Mr. 
Drummond, “ as far as my experience goes, are the rekabee thorns, the dense 
evergreens which line the rivers, and, during summer, the reeds on the margins of 
lagoons or streams, while in the open flats any patch of reeds or tall grass suffices 
to conceal them. The best chances for killing them are obtained in the first- 
mentioned spots, as you often come across them asleep when you are stealing about 
after game.” From these and similar haunts, the lion issues forth at sundown to 
commence his nightly prowls; dark and stormy nights, according to Gordon 
Cumming, being those on which he is most active, while he is more cautious during 
bright moonlight nights, especially as regards his visits to the drinking-places. 
Unlike most of his congeners, the lion is not a climber, and this general 
inability to ascend trees has saved the lives of many sportsmen and travellers, 
although not unfrequently at the cost of a long and thirsty waiting. 
Mr. Blanford, who has had the opportunity of observing both lions and tigers 
in their native haunts, is of opinion that the former are bolder than the latter, 
while they are certainly far more noisy. When relating the results of his experi¬ 
ences during the Abyssinian Expedition, he observes that “ the first peculiarity 
that struck me in the African lions was their noisiness. I have constantly been 
for months together in countries in India abounding in tigers without hearing their 
cry. Indeed, it is by no means a common sound in any Indian forest. Leopards, 
I should say, are much more frequently heard than tigers. The cry of the two 
animals, commonly known as roaring, though it is utterly different from the harsh 
growl of anger to which the term might most appropriately be applied, is very 
similar, and consists of several deep notes uttered rather quickly one after the 
other, and repeated at longer and shorter intervals.” 
Very different impressions appear to be produced on different persons by the 
lion’s roar, some listeners appearing to regard it as a rather commonplace and by no 
means awe-inspiring sound, while others, and we believe the majority, speak of it 
in far different terms. Such differences of impression must, it is obvious, be largely 
due to personal disposition. 
Perhaps the lowest estimation of the lion’s roar is that of Livingstone. He 
writes that “ it is calculated to inspire fear when heard in a pitchy dark night 
amidst the tremendous peals of an African thunderstorm, and the vivid flashes of 
lightning which leave on the eye the impression of stone-blindness, while the rain 
pouring down extinguishes the fire, and there is neither the protection of a tree nor 
a chance that your gun will go off. But when anyone is snug in a house or a 
waggon, the roar of the lion inspires no awe. A European cannot distinguish 
between the note of a lion and that of an ostrich. In general the voice of the 
former seems to come deeper from the chest; but to this day I can only pronounce 
with certainty from which of the two it proceeds, by knowing that the ostrich 
roars by day and the lion by night. The natives assert that they can detect a 
difference at the beginning of the sound.” 
A recent writer in Land and Water, who is fully impressed with the grandeur 
of the lion’s roar, is by no means disposed to admit the justness of its comparison to 
the voice of the ostrich. He observes that when a lion is “ roaring loudly in concert 
with others at a short distance off, the sound is grand and awe-inspiring in the 
