CHAPTER XII.A STATION TO SIR JOHN'S LIKING.[edit]
So the Russian mathematician was found! When they
asked him how he had passed those four days, he could not
tell; he thought the whole story of the crocodiles was a
joke, and did not believe it. He had not been hungry; he
had lived upon figures. Matthew Strux would not reproach
his countryman before his colleagues, but there was every
reason to believe that in private he gave him a severe
reprimand.
The geodetic operations were now resumed, and went on
as usual till the 28th of June, when they had measured the
base of the 15th triangle, which would conclude the second
and commence the third degree of the meridian.
Here a
physical difficulty arose. The country was so thickly
covered with underwood, that although the artificial signals
could be erected, they could not be discerned at any distance.
One station was recognized as available for an
electric lamp. This was a mountain 1200 feet high, about
thirty miles to the north-west. The choice of this would
make the sides of this triangle considerably longer than any
of the former, but it was at length determined to adopt it.
Colonel Everest, Emery, Zorn, three sailors, and two Bochjesmen,
were appointed to establish the lighted signal, the
distance being too great to work otherwise than at night.
The little troop, accompanied by mules laden with the
instruments and provisions, set off in the morning. The
Colonel did not expect to reach the base of the mountain
till the following day, and however few might be the difficulties
of the ascent, the observers in the camp would not
see the lighted signal till the night of the 29th or 30th.
In the interval of waiting, Strux and Palander went to
their usual occupations, while Sir John and the bushman
shot antelopes. They found opportunity of hunting a
giraffe, which is considered fine sport. Coming across a
herd of twenty, but so wild that they could not approach
within 500 yards, they succeeded in detaching a female
from the herd. The animal set off at first at a slow trot,
allowing the horsemen to gain upon her; but when she
found them near, she twisted her tail, and started at full
speed. The hunters followed for about two miles, when a
ball from Sir John's rifle threw her on to her side, and made
her an easy victim.
In the course of the next night the two Russians took
some altitudes of the stars, which enabled them to determine
the latitude of the encampment. The following night
was clear and dry, without moon and stars, and the
observers impatiently watched for the appearance of the
electric light. Strux, Palander, and Sir John relieved
guard at the telescope, but no light appeared.
They concluded
that the ascent of the mountain had offered serious
difficulty, and again postponed their observations till the
next night.
Great, however, was their surprise, when,
about two o'clock in the afternoon, Colonel Everest and
his companions suddenly reappeared in camp.
In answer to inquiries whether he had found the mountain
inaccessible. Colonel Everest replied that although in
itself the mountain was entirely accessible, it was so guarded
that they had found it necessary to come back for reinforcements.
“Do you mean,” said Sir John, “that the natives were
assembled in force?”
“Yes, natives with four paws and black manes, who have
eaten up one of our horses.”
The Colonel went on to say that the mountain was only
to be approached by a spur on the south-west side. In the
narrow defile leading to the spur a troop of lions had taken
up their abode. These he had endeavoured to dislodge,
but, insufficiently armed, he was compelled to beat a retreat,
after losing one of his horses by a single blow of a lion's paw.
The recital kindled the interest of Sir John and the bushman.
Clearly it was a station worth conquering, and an
expedition was at once arranged. All the Europeans, without
exception, were eager to join, but it was necessary that
some should remain at the camp to measure the angles at
the base of the triangle, therefore the Colonel resolved to
stay behind with Strux and Palander, while Sir John,
Emery, and Zorn (to whose entreaties their chiefs had been
obliged to yield), Mokoum, and three natives on whose
courage he could rely, made up the party for the attack.
They started at four in the afternoon, and by nine were
within two miles of the mountain. Here they dismounted,
and made their arrangements for the night. No fire was
kindled, Mokoum being unwilling to provoke a nocturnal
attack from the animals, which he wished to meet by daylight.
Throughout the night the roar of the lions could almost
incessantly be heard. Not one of the hunters slept for so
much as an hour, and Mokoum took advantage of their
wakefulness to give them some advice from his own experience.
“From what Colonel Everest tells us,” he said calmly,
“these are black-maned lions, the fiercest and most dangerous
species of any. They leap for a distance of sixteen to
twenty paces, and I should advise you to avoid their first
bound. Should the first fail, they rarely take a second.
We will attack them as they re-enter their den at daybreak;
they are always less fierce when they are well
filled. But they will defend themselves well, for here,
in this uninhabited district, they are unusually ferocious.
Measure your distance well before you fire; let the animal
approach, and take a sure aim near the shoulder. We
must leave our horses behind; the sight of a lion terrifies
them, and therefore the safety of their rider is imperilled.
We must fight on foot, and I rely on your calmness.”
All listened with silent attention: Mokoum was now the
patient hunter. Although the lion seldom attacks a man
without provocation, yet his fury, when once aroused, is
terrible; and therefore the bushman enjoined composure
on his companions, especially on Sir John, who was often
carried away by his boldness.
“Shoot at a lion,” said Mokoum, “as calmly as if you
were shooting a partridge.”
At four o'clock, only a few red streaks being visible in
the far east, the hunters tied up their horses securely and
left their halting-place.
“Examine your guns, and be careful that your cartridges
are in good trim,” continued Mokoum, to those who
carried rifles; for the three natives were armed otherwise,
satisfied with their bows of aloe, which already had
rendered them good service.
The party, in a compact group, turned towards the defile,
which had been partially reconnoitred the evening before.
They crept, like Red Indians, silently between the trees,
and soon reached the narrow gorge which formed the
entrance. Here, winding between piles of granite, began
the path leading to the first slopes of the spur. Midway
the path had been widened by a landslip, and here was the
cave tenanted by the lions.
It was then arranged that Sir John, one of the natives,
and Mokoum, should creep along the upper edge of the
defile, with the intention of driving out the animals to the
lower extremity of the gorge. There the two young
Europeans and the other two Bochjesmen should be in
ambush to receive the fugitive beasts with shot and
arrows.
No spot could be better adapted for the manœuvres.
The forked branches of a gigantic sycamore afforded a safe
position, since lions do not climb; and the hunters, perched
at a considerable height, could escape their bounds and
aim at them under favourable conditions.
William Emery objected to the plan as being dangerous
for Sir John and the bushman, but the latter would hear
of no modification, and Emery reluctantly acquiesced.
Day now began to dawn, and the mountain-top was
glowing in the sun. Mokoum, after seeing his four companions
installed in the sycamore, started off with Sir
John and the Bochjesman, and soon mounted the devious
path which lay on the right edge of the defile. Cautiously
examining their path, they continued to advance. In the
event of the lions having returned to their den and being
at repose, it would be possible to make short work of
them.
After about a quarter of an hour the hunters, reaching
the landslip before the cave to which Zorn had directed
them, crouched down and examined the spot. It seemed
a wide excavation, though at present they could hardly
estimate the size. The entrance was marked by piles of
bones and remains of animals, demonstrating, beyond
doubt, that it was the lions' retreat
Contrary to the hunter's expectation, the cave seemed
deserted. He crept to the entrance and satisfied himself
that it was really empty. Calling his companions, who
joined him immediately, he said,—
“Our game has not returned, Sir John, but it will not be
long: I think we had better install ourselves in its place.
Better to be besieged than besiegers, especially as we have
an armed succour at hand. What do you think?”
“I am at your orders, Mokoum,” replied Sir John.
All three accordingly entered. It was a deep grotto,
strewn with bones and stained with blood. Repeating their
scrutiny, lest they should be mistaken as to the cave being
empty, they hastened to barricade the entrance by piling
up stones, the intervening spaces being filled with
boughs and dry brushwood. This only occupied a few
minutes, the mouth of the cave being comparatively narrow.
They then went behind their loop-holes, and awaited
their prey, which was not long in coming. A lion and two
lionesses approached within a hundred yards of the cave.
The lion, tossing his mane and sweeping the ground with
his tail, carried in his teeth an entire antelope, which he
shook with as much ease as a cat would a mouse. The two
lionesses frisked along at his side.
Sir John afterwards confessed that it was a moment ot
no little trepidation; he felt his pulses beat fast, and was
conscious of something like fear; but he was soon himself
again. His two companions retained their composure
undisturbed.
At the sight of the barricade, the beasts paused. They
were within sixty paces. With a harsh roar from the lion,
they all three rushed into a thicket on the right, a little
below the spot where the hunters had first stopped. Their
tawny backs and gleaming eyes were distinctly visible
through the foliage.
“The partridges are there,” whispered Sir John; “let us
each take one.”
“No,” answered Mokoum softly, “the brood is not all
here, and the report of a gun would frighten the rest.
Bochjesman, are you sure of your arrow at this distance?”
“Yes, Mokoum,” said the native.
“Then aim at the male's left flank, and pierce his heart.”
The Bochjesman bent his bow, and the arrow whistled
through the brushwood. With a loud roar, the lion made
a bound and fell. He lay motionless, and his sharp teeth
stood out in strong relief against his blood-stained lips.
“Well done, Bochjesman!” said Mokoum.
At this moment the lionesses, leaving the thicket, flung
themselves on the lion's body. Attracted by their roar,
two other lions and a third lioness appeared round the
corner of the defile. Bristling with anger, they looked
twice their ordinary size, and bounded forward with terrific
roars.
“Now for the rifles,” cried the bushman, “we must
shoot them on the wing, since they will not perch.”
The bushman took deliberate aim, and one lion fell, as it
were paralyzed. The other, his paw broken by Sir John's
bullet, rushed towards the barricade, followed by the infuriated
lionesses. Unless the rifles could now be brought
successfully to bear, the three animals would succeed in
entering their den. The hunters retired; their guns were
quickly reloaded; two or three lucky shots, and all would
be well; but an unforeseen circumstance occurred which
rendered the hunters' situation to the last degree alarming.
All at once a dense smoke filled the cave. One of the
wads, falling on the dry brushwood, had set it alight, and
soon a sheet of flames, fanned by the wind, lay between the
men and the beasts. The lions recoiled, but the hunters
would be suffocated if they remained where they were. It
was a terrible moment, but they dared not hesitate.
“Come out! come out!” cried Mokoum.
They pushed aside the brushwood with the butt ends of
their guns, knocked down the stones, and, half choked,
leaped out of the cloud of smoke.
The native and Sir John had hardly time to collect their
senses when they were both knocked over. The African,
struck on the chest by one of the lionesses, lay motionless
on the ground; Sir John, who received a blow from the tail
of the other, thought his leg was broken, and fell on his
knees. But just as the animal turned upon him, a ball
from the bushman arrested her, and, meeting a bone,
exploded in her body. At this instant Zorn, Emery, and
the two Bochjesmen appeared opportunely, although unsummoned,
hastening up the defile. Two lions and one
lioness were dead; but two lionesses and the lion with the
broken paw were still sufficiently formidable. The rifles,
however, performed their duty. A second lioness fell,
struck in both head and flank. The third lioness and the
wounded lion bounded over the young men's heads, and
amid a last salute of balls and arrows disappeared round
the corner of the defile.
Sir John uttered a loud hurrah. The lions were conquered,
four carcasses measured the ground.
With his friend's assistance, Sir John was soon on his
feet again; his leg was not broken. The native soon recovered
his consciousness, being merely stunned by the blow
from the animal's head. An hour later, the little troop,
without further trace of the fugitive couple, regained the
thicket where they had left their horses.
“Well,” said Mokoum to Sir John, “I hope you like our
African partridges.”
“Delightful! delightful!” said Sir John, rubbing his
leg, “but what tails they have, to be sure!”
