Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1883-06-12
AN ALGERIAN LION STORY.

AN ALUERlAN l.lON olORl.
How | came to be sitting, in very good
company, one glorious September eve
ming, in the little lighted garden
of the hotel at Algiers, is neither here
nor there.
My companions about the round, table,
which was garnished with slim bottles,
glasses and piles of cigarettes, were all
Frenchmen-three old Algerian colonists,
the fourth an ex-lieutenant of the navy,
who had exchanged life on the ocean
wave for that Of a hunter in ,hree-quar-
ters Of the globe.
Before dinner l had picked up in the
salon Du Chaillu's gorilla book, which |
had never seen before, and my saying
something about this turned the conver-
sa,ion in the garden upon wild beasts
and the hunting OF them.
Some wonderful stories were told, es-
pecially by the ex-sailor, though not a
bit more wonderful than many one hears
from old Indian sportsmen.
For the matter of that the most ex-
,raordinary sporting story | ever heard,
was told by-of all men in the world
a hare hunter, who capped herewith a
snake and elephant narrative, quite un-
ique of its kind.
Presently short silence, caused by
the uncorking and tasting of a new bot
tie Of Hermitage, was broken by the eld-
est Of the party, who had not said much
before. He was good-looking man of
fifty, with beard grayer than his head,
and merry twinkle in his eye. What
he said l shall repeat, for the sake Of
clearness, in the first person, just as he
told the story himself.
1.-The adventure of which | am going
to tell you gentlemen, happened to me
a good many years ago. 1t was my
first serious interview with lion. Like
most serious things, it had comic side,
too.
81 was young then, and had been
some half dozen years in Constantine,
farming, in partnership with friend, an
old colonist, whose acquaintance had
made on board ship coming out from
Marseilles.
"Our business was corn and cattle
raising, and we did very well together,
until my partner died Of fever, and
after that | took dislike to the place.
| thought l would shift my ground into
this province, Algiers, push toward the
frontier. and get a grant of government
land and make farm of it. So, getting
a neighbor to give an eye to things in my
absence, started on my prospecting ex-
pedition.
q say |, but | should say we, for
there were three Of US, sworn comrades
as ever were.
First, there was your humble SER
want; secondly, there was my horse Ma
rengo, and better never looked through
a bride. He was bred between barb
sire and an English mare belonging to
the colonel of chasseurs, of whom |
bought him in town, when his regiment
was going home. He stood about fifteen
hands two, carried the barb head, and
the rest of his body was all bone and
muscle. His temper was as good as his
courage was high; me he would follow
about like like dog, but he had one
failing, and that was an insuperable OBJ
lection to the close proximity of anything,
except one thing, that stood on four legs.
We all have our peculiarities, and this
was his. Bipeds were all very well, but
multiply the legs by two, and he let
fiy Immediately, and he never missed his
aim.
"Such was Marengo."
Thirdly, there was Cognac, the faith
fullest, the most honest, the oldest and
the wickedest little dog the world ever
saw. He was more like terrier than
anything else, with short, yellow coat,
fox's head, very long ears, and very
short tail. The shrillness of his bark
pierced your ears like knife, but the
awfulness of his howl-he always howled
if left alone-baffles description. Dur
ing the fourteen years l had him, he sell
dom left me day or night. On journey