CHAPTER THE SIXTH--Raided by Lions
The return march was not so hurried as the pursuit, and it was theafternoon of the fifth day after their departure when the little partyarrived at the farm. Mr. Halliday was surprised that none of theWakamba had come to meet him, thinking that they must have descried himfrom afar; and still more surprised when, on entering the enclosure, hecould not see any of his people. Surely they had not all deserted!Passing through the second boma, however, he heard a howl, andimmediately afterwards the natives came rushing pell-mell towards himout of their grass huts, Wasama and Lulu, Juma's wife, leading the way.They crowded about him, all shouting together, and making such a dinthat Coja himself could not at once distinguish what they were saying.But when Mr. Halliday had sternly called for order, Coja made out thatthe people were in a terrible state of fright, because a cow had beencarried away during the night without a sound.
They declared that the robber must be the devil whom Mr. Halliday hadprofessed to slay.
"Nonsense!" said Mr. Halliday. "It must have been a lion."
But no--Wasama declared it could not have been a lion, for he had notheard a lion's roar, and there was no breach in the outer boma: only adevil could have passed through it without forcing a gap.
When Mr. Halliday set Coja to question the man, however, he learnt thatneither he nor any other of the natives had stirred outside the innerenclosure that day, so that they were hardly in a position to knowwhether the boma had been broken or not. An examination of it soonrevealed a gap in the western side, and bits of tawny hide were stickingto the thorns. Mr. Halliday insisted on Wasama following up the trackswhich even his inexperienced eye discovered, and within a quarter of amile he came upon some bones and a few remnants of a carcase, from whicha couple of vultures flew away. Wasama, however, persisted in hisassertion that the track was not that of a lion, and the others backinghim up, Mr. Halliday sent John and Coja to the wood to fetch theWanderobbo, determined to clear up the point before dark.
The Wanderobbo came bringing a small gourd of wild honey which heoffered to Mr. Halliday. The little man threw one glance on theblood-bespattered ground, and then said that the tracks were undoubtedlythose of two lions, which would probably return to the spot during thecoming night.
"Then we'll stay and wait for them, John," said Mr. Halliday. "Wemustn't be molested in this way, and the sooner we teach the beasts alesson, the better."
But the Wanderobbo, when this was explained to him, earnestly advisedthe white men not to do anything of the sort. There was no tree athand, he pointed out, in which the hunters could rest and watch for thelions, and they, having far keener sight than men, would merely stalkthem. In the darkness they could not even see to shoot. He said thatthey had better return to the settlement and watch inside the boma; andsince darkness would soon fall, he begged to be taken in for the night,to which Mr. Halliday readily agreed.
Neither of the Englishmen slept that night. They sat at their tentdoor, with their rifles within reach, listening to the distant roaring,and awaiting with a nervous impatience the onset of the terrible beasts.The roars drew nearer, then ceased. The men clutched their rifles, andstole into the outer enclosure, where the sheep were huddled together interror. They waited for several hours, peering into the darkness, butneither saw nor heard any more of the marauders, though when they wentout with the Wanderobbo in the morning, they traced the spoor of lionswithin a few yards of the boma.
This experience was repeated for several nights following. To lessentheir fatigue, Mr. Halliday and John took turns to watch, but thougheach night they heard the roars, there was no attempt to break in.Thinking that the fires, which were kept burning all night, were provingeffectual in scaring the beasts, both father and son decided one day togo to sleep as usual. But in the middle of the night they were startledby a yell. Springing up, they seized their rifles, and rushed out ofthe tent in their pyjamas. There was a great commotion among theanimals in the outer enclosure, and dashing through them, Mr. Hallidaysaw that a gap had been broken in the boma no more than three yards fromone of the fires. The man whose turn it was to replenish it with fuel,and whose yell had awakened the white men, said that a lion had sprungthrough without warning and carried off a sheep. It was useless toattempt to pursue the robber in the dark, and Mr. Halliday could onlyswallow his vexation and return to his interrupted sleep.
Nothing disturbed the work of the settlement during the daytime. TheIndian carpenters were making good progress with the bungalow and theother sheds which Mr. Halliday had decided to erect on the north side,nearest the river. The soil outside the boma was being slowly preparedfor crops, and finding after a few days that his Wakamba porters werebut indifferent labourers, Mr. Halliday dismissed them, resolving torely upon the people of the neighbouring villages for such farm labouras he required. He intended to bring only a small area undercultivation at first, for the purpose of growing enough grain andvegetables for his own consumption. Difficulties of transit wouldprevent him from dealing in farm produce; the work of driving his cattleby and by over a hundred miles to market would no doubt prove arduousenough.
But though the days were thus placid, the nights became a horror. If awatch was kept, the peace of the encampment was undisturbed except bythe remote and harmless roars; but as soon as the weary Englishmendetermined to enjoy a full night's rest, the thorn fence would be brokenat some new spot, and when the sheep and cattle were numbered in themorning it was found that one or more was missing. The natives becamescared, and as for Mr. Halliday, he declared it was positively uncanny.
"One would think the beasts have the gift of second sight," he said. "Idon't wonder our village friends kept their cattle off these grounds andbelieved in Gilmour's devil."
The only incident that relieved the tension and afforded a littleamusement was the discovery one morning that the lion in his haste hadsnatched up a bag of rice, which was found at some little distance, thegrains scattered about as though the thief had lost his temper when hebecame aware of the mistake.
It was fortunate indeed for the little community that the lions wereapparently not man-eaters. A lion that has once tasted man thenceforthscorns lesser fare, and Coja told his employers harrowing stories of thereign of terror under which the coolies who had been engaged in layingthe Uganda railway had lived. Night after night the terrible beasts hadcrept into the native encampments and stolen forth in dead silence withtheir hapless prey, ceasing their depredations for months at a time, butreturning when the men were lulled to security, and beginning theirhavoc over again. Mr. Halliday had heard of this from Mr. Gillespie inNairobi; but the story told now by one who had actually lived in thecamps thus visited at night, and punctuated by the roaring of lions at adistance, made a much more powerful and harrowing impression. At anymoment the lions might become man-eaters. They had only to stumble upona native in their nocturnal raids and then the life of no man would besafe.
More than once Mr. Halliday set off in the daytime with John and theWanderobbo, who was now a frequent visitor to the farm, to track thelions and if possible hunt them down. They found that the spoor ledinto the dense scrub higher up the river, a region ten or twelve milesin length and nearly as much in breadth. So thick was the scrub that itwas impossible to trace the beasts for more than a few yards into itsrecesses. After what he had heard of the Wanderobbo's skill and prowessas a hunter, Mr. Halliday was surprised to find how reluctant the littleman was to accompany them in their expeditions. But he had a wholesomedread of lions. Elephants he was prepared to tackle, and indeed anyother creature of the wilds; though even them he would rather snare thanstalk; but the lion was a much more cunning and dangerous enemy. Hewould talk very bravely sometimes, avowing that if he met a lion andstared at him the beast would slink away; but he showed no readiness toenter the probable haunts of the creatures, and admitted that theysometimes took it into their heads to fight instead of running away, andthen they were quite as clever hunters as he was. Mr.
Halliday somewhatimpatiently reminded him that rifles were very deadly weapons; but theWanderobbo shook his head and said that he had never hunted lions withrifles. He had seen the Arabs do so, and pay for their temerity withtheir lives. On the whole his advice was to leave the lions alone, andhe once confessed very naively that if he, bold hunter as he was, saw alion approaching, he would certainly go the other way.
With such half-hearted assistance it was not surprising that many dayspassed before the Englishmen so much as caught a glimpse of theirtormentors. However, one morning when they had gone out with theWanderobbo and Coja to track the smaller game for food, they descriedtwo lions stalking slowly across a glade some miles up the river. Inspite of the little man's reluctance Mr. Halliday determined to go inchase, and then the Wanderobbo, forgetting his fears when his huntinginstincts were aroused, suggested that they should tempt the lions tocome within range. He proposed that they should carry a water-buckwhich John had just brought down, to a spot where the scent of it wouldbe wafted by the wind towards the beasts. This having been done, theparty retreated to the rear of the lions and lurked behind some trees towatch them. The lions soon scented the game, and came slowly towardsit, moving with a majestic and yet graceful gait that extorted murmursof admiration from the Englishmen. But when they had come within twohundred yards, and John was quivering with excitement at the prospect ofhis first encounter with the king of beasts, one of them becamesuspicious and halted, lifting his head and sniffing the air, and thenuttering a low growl as if to warn his companion. After a minute or twothey seemed to decide that they were being led into a trap, and, turningabout, stalked slowly away.
"Let's go after them, father," said John, unwilling to let this chanceslip.
The four set off stealthily to stalk the beasts, and after an hour'sfatiguing march over rough ground, saw them standing together at theedge of a patch of bush just beyond range. Bending low, and takingadvantage of every tree and tussock of grass, and a tall ant-hill, forcover, the two Englishmen drew nearer and nearer, and were on the pointof lifting their rifles to fire, when the animals disappeared into thebush. There was nothing for it but to begin the stalking again. Theycautiously made the circuit of the bush, and presently saw the lionsemerge from the further end and continue their promenade. Again thehunters followed them, at one moment flattering themselves that a fewyards further would bring them within range, the next chagrined toperceive that the lions had quickened their pace and outdistanced them.At length, when a thin patch of woodland enabled them to hurry theirsteps and gave hope of overtaking their quarry, the lions broke into atrot and soon disappeared from view.
"Well, if that isn't disgusting!" exclaimed John,
"How long have we been at this game, do you think?" asked his father.
"Two or three hours, perhaps."
"Five hours and a half, my boy, and I rather think we might have beenbetter employed."
John was too much disgusted at the failure of his first lion-hunt to sayany more; and when next morning it was found that one of the best cowshad been stolen he was still more angry.
"We must put a stop to this, father," he said. "Can't we set a trap?"
"We'll see what our friend Bill says," replied Mr. Halliday. TheWanderobbo's name had proved so unpronounceable that he had been calledBill for short. Bill, however, said that lions were too clever to becaught in traps, which did not seem improbable when he explained what hemeant by a trap--a simple pit with a sharpened stick at the bottom, likethat in which Oliver Browne had been found, or a spear suspended fromthe branch of a tree and brought down by the animal treading on a rope.Mr. Halliday set to work to devise a more effective machine.
He got the mistris to cut several stout logs, out of which theyconstructed a sort of gigantic rat-trap. The door was arranged so thatit was held in position by a light pole attached to a length of stoutwire, which was connected with a spring hidden under leaves on the floorof the trap. If a lion should enter and tread on the spring, the wirewould be released and the door fall behind him down two grooves ofcorrugated iron. To entice him to enter, a live goat was placed in acompartment adjoining the trap, so strongly fenced that the bait was inno danger.
This trap was rigged up, with the expenditure of a day's work, at onecorner of the outer boma.
"It's rather poor sport to treat the lion like a rat," said John, "butthat can't be helped. If we catch one we shan't be able to get a goodshot at him in the dark, though."
"Well, we can either keep him there till daylight, or, better still,burn a bit of magnesium wire--I've plenty; that will not only give us agood light, but possibly help to scare other beasts away."
The trap was set. For two nights nothing happened. On the third, justas the two Englishmen were thinking of turning in, they heard the doorof the trap fall with a clatter, followed by a low growl of rage. Theycaught up their rifles and hurried to the spot.
"Now for the wire, father," said John. "You give me a light and I'llpot the beast."
Mr. Halliday struck a match and ignited the wire, but just as John wastaking aim it fell to the ground.
"What's the matter?" he asked.
"I'm as nervous as a cat," said his father, with a rueful laugh. "And Ihaven't brought a second piece, confound it!"
"Well, we'll take a shot in the dark. We can't both miss."
They fired together. The next moment there was a terrific roar, a crashas of shattered match-wood, and they knew that the infuriated captivehad burst through the walls of the trap, stout as they were. They firedanother shot in the direction they supposed him to have taken, and then,vexed and disappointed, returned to their tent. They found next daythat the lion had been wounded. Bill traced it by the stains of bloodupon the ground. But its injuries were plainly not very serious, forthe track failed at a patch of reeds a mile up the river, and theEnglishmen had to digest their chagrin that the troublesome beast wasstill at large. Their efforts, however, had not been whollyunsuccessful. The nocturnal visitations ceased, and since no roaringwas heard it appeared that the lions had been scared from theneighbourhood.
Settlers and Scouts: A Tale of the African Highlands Page 7
