The Jennings daily record., 1902-07-25
Dangers of Lion Hunting.

Dangers of Lion Hunting.
I'm "a Tale of Several Lions" Her
cules D. Viloen, in the Era, says:
qVan Aardt came to me and suggested
little lion stalking. Now, l know
lions as we'll as he; deliberate hunting
for lion who mourns a murdered
mate was foolhardy proceeding. But
in the near neighborhood Of the spot
where Madame Lioness had been killed
was one lion, with an earthquake voice,
whose rumblings fascinated the fiery
spirit of Van Aardt.
II am going" he said.
l could not let him go alone. for we
had fought too often side by side. We
started Off. my reckless comrade lay
ing out, in calmest confidence. the art
less plan he had of walking up to that
tumultuous hell of wrath incarnate,
and Of blowing few holes in it with
his Mauser AS we came nearer, the
roars ceased. The lion, weary with
his imprecatiOns of the night had gone
away from the scene of his bereaye-
ment for rest and sleep. But we found
in the jungle's depths the footway he
had trod: in q sentry path Of twenty
feet, he had stalked back and forth
for twelve long hours, calling aloud for
vengeance.
Kristmansen, who looked upon Van
Aardt as a hot-headed madman for the
time, decided he would use the morn
ing for peaceful springbok hunt, and
took his Kaffir boy along. He went
In the direction opposite to ours. After
half an hours close tracking, the KAT
fir. who had been in advance, appeared
at his elbow with an impish sudden
ness. and a whispered word:
''Baas, a lion"'
kriStmansen started ahead of him.
There, in a tiny clearing not thirty
yards away, the monarch stood, his
name quivering with the intensity of
his attention and his brilliant eyeballs
cleaning in the effort to penetrate the
single veil of cover that hid the hunter
from his view. The Kattir had faith
in his master that was sublime.
''Shoot Baas shoot!''
kristmanSen knew that death stood
waiting for him i'll the clearing beyond,
first shot. The wounded lion would
tear him into shreds of mangled flesh
before he could have time to fly. Step
by step. his very breath pent up he
made the slow retreat. The IA fir
fancying all his master need do was
fire a single shot. accompanied him
with an expression of diSdain. For ten
good minutes, Kristmansen paced
back ward: ana then came swiftly to
the camp again upon the chance Of
making up a party whose numbers
would mean safety in Il concerted at
tack. But the majority of us We're
away, and that lion, with all the
Others among the spouses of Farie's
lioness, We're unmOlested from that day
forth.
j was in Pretoria little later and
saw Il sight that told me how wise
Kristmansen had been. The oldest
lion lunter of the Transvaal shook me
by the hnnd-and used his left hand
for the greeting. The other arm hung
withered and helpless. at his side.
Only half his face was there to speak
to me. The other half went into Il
lions maw Il few months earlier. He
was hunting springbok with his son.
and carried an ancient muZzle loader
A dead shot. the old man deserted a
buck not fifty feet away; and kneel-
ing, fired. The crack of the rife was
answered by the Snarfing roar of a
wounded lion. The bullet, passing
through the buck, had struck the
mighty beast MS he was about to
spring. And it had no more than
wounded him. He ieaPed for the
smoke, coming on in flying bounds
while my old friend fumbled wildly
with his powder horn. He was too
slow. The bullet had not dropped into
the barrel before the lion WAS upon
him. One crunch of his tremendous
jaws. and an arm was stripped TO the
hone. Another and the side of his
face had vanished. The cavernous
throat above the PROSTATE man roared
once more, before the teeth should
clash together. when the son. running
up put his rife barrel 10 the lion S
side ana drove Il half-ouuce bullet
through his heart.