The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1909-07-02

vultures that hover
around waiting to pick the bones of
its prey.
One day, just as the blue haze of
morning was lifting from the forest,
l saw flock of vultures sailing in the
air and swooping from time to time.
I knew there was dead meat some
where near. l started out in search.
In quarter of an hour, right under
where the vultures were circling,
heard the crunching of bones in a
clump of rocks half hidden in the
high grass. There was that unmis-
taxable sound of some large animal
eating and tearing flesh. After maneu-
yering for some time 1 came across
q wide trail of crushed, blood-stained
grass, showing that some large ami
NAL must have been dragged. No ami
NAL but lion could drag body big
enough to make such large trail.
Cautiously approaching the rocks,
heard the animals satisfied growls
and saw the ravenous vultures, hook
beaked and hungry-eyed, perched on
the points of vantage, awaiting their
chance to swoop down. 1 had to be
careful, for, if the vultures gave the
danger signal, all chance of getting
the game would be lost. After crawl
ing a few yards farther, 1 got peep
between the rocks. Lying down with
two cubs sucking, was a beautiful
lioness chewing at the rump of an
impala antelope. 1t was a beautiful
irrhf hot - T
a hunter and there was nothing else
TO do. Although l could see the lion
ess in general way, it was a par
ticularly hard shot, as there were
many thorn bushes and stones in my
road.
The vultures were getting uneasy.
moved, and they all rose with heavy
Tapping of wings. The lioness,
startled, sprang to the top of the
rocks, the cubs following. 1t was so
sudden that / fired without taking aim
and missed the mother, but wounded
a cub. The other cub made off into
the bush. the lioness following.
was in bad temper through dis
appointment and drew my knife to
cut the throat of the wounded cub,
which was whining in pain. AS put
my hand down to make the thrust, it
licked me with it's little hot tongue
and a pleading look filled it's soft
eyes. 1t was too much like killing a
baby
1 slipped my knife back into its
sheath. 1t was harmless little, fluff
fly ball, kitten, and 1 picked 1t up
and patted it. I was carrying it back
to the camp when heard noise be-
hind me. 1 looked back and saw the
mother slip into the underground. I
knew then that there was going to be
trouble. Two or three times around
the camp that day the yellow form of
the lioness was seen fitting across
partly exposed places in the bush.
1 washed the cubs wound and put
some healing preparation from my
medicine chest on it. That night I
gave the sentries warning of possible
danger and took my little captive into
my tent and tied it to my stretcher.
d-owsed off to sleep watching the
shadow of the sentry on the tent as
he passed between 1t and the fire.
Suddenly jerk at my stretcher
awoke me. Instinctively placing my
hand on my Luger pistol, opened my
eyes expecting, if anything, to see the
guard. My heart almost stopped. To
move meant destruction, for there, on
three legs, with an angry snarl and
one paw raised to strike, was the lion
ess in the half light that the dying
camp fire threw through the flaps of
the tent.
My brains were Of no use to me, for
they ceased to work. In silent fear,
almost paralyzed, 1 lay. The lioness
grabbed it's cub and gave tug. The
cord that held it snapped, overturn-
ing my stretcher. She turned and
bounded through the door carrying
her precious offspring. A shot shat
tered the silence of the night. sprang
to my feet and saw the guard stand
ing over the quivering form of the