safari, and we were in a native district much infested by man-eating lions.  Perhaps I may as well state that man-eaters are very different from ordinary lions.  They are always matured beasts, and sometimes—­indeed, mostly—­are old.  They become man-eaters most likely by accident or necessity.  When old they find it more difficult to make a kill, being slower, probably, and with poorer teeth.  Driven by hunger, they stalk and kill a native, and, once having tasted human blood, they want no other.  They become absolutely fearless and terrible in their attacks.

“The natives of this village near where we camped were in a terrorized state owing to depredations of two or more man-eaters.  The night of our arrival a lion leaped a stockade fence, seized a native from among others sitting round a fire, and leaped out again, carrying the screaming fellow away into the darkness.  I determined to kill these lions, and made a permanent camp in the village for that purpose.  By day I sent beaters into the brush and rocks of the river-valley, and by night I watched.  Every night the lions visited us, but I did not see one.  I discovered that when they roared around the camp they were not so liable to attack as when they were silent.  It was indeed remarkable how silently they could stalk a man.  They could creep through a thicket so dense you would not believe a rabbit could get through, and do it without the slightest sound.  Then, when ready to charge, they did so with terrible onslaught and roar.  They leaped right into a circle of fires, tore down huts, even dragged natives from the low trees.  There was no way to tell at which point they would make an attack.

“After ten days or more of this I was worn out by loss of sleep.  And one night, when tired out with watching, I fell asleep.  My gun-bearer was alone in the tent with me.  A terrible roar awakened me, then an unearthly scream pierced right into my ears.  I always slept with my rifle in my hands, and, grasping it, I tried to rise.  But I could not for the reason that a lion was standing over me.  Then I lay still.  The screams of my gun-bearer told me that the lion had him.  I was fond of this fellow and wanted to save him.  I thought it best, however, not to move while the lion stood over me.  Suddenly he stepped, and I felt poor Luki’s feet dragging across me.  He screamed, ’Save me, master!’ And instinctively I grasped at him and caught his foot.  The lion walked out of the tent dragging me as I held to Luki’s foot.  The night was bright moonlight.  I could see the lion distinctly.  He was a huge, black-maned brute, and he held Luki by the shoulder.  The poor lad kept screaming frightfully.  The man-eater must have dragged me forty yards before he became aware of a double incumbrance to his progress.  Then he halted and turned.  By Jove! he made a devilish fierce object with his shaggy, massive head, his green-fire eyes, and his huge jaws holding