The Major and Wilmot were advancing before the fire to the attack, when the animal for a moment let go his prey, and was about to spring upon them.  Bremen called out for them to retreat, which they did, as the animal advanced step by step toward them.

Satisfied with their retiring, the lion then went to his prey, and dragged it to a distance of about fifty yards, where it commenced its meal; and they distinctly heard, although they could not plainly distinguish, the tearing of the animal’s flesh and the breaking of its bones by the lion, while its bellowings were most pitiful.

They all now fired in the direction where they heard the noise; the lion replied to the volley by a tremendous roar, and rushed up within twenty yards of the wagons, so as to be distinctly visible.  Bremen begged our travelers not to molest the animal, as it was evidently very hungry and very angry, and would certainly make a spring upon them, which must be attended with disastrous effects.

The other lions were also now moving round and round the camp; they therefore reloaded their guns, and remained still, looking at the lion tearing and devouring his prey.

“We must be quiet here,” said Bremen to Alexander; “there are many lions round us, and our fire is not sufficient to scare them away, and they may attack us.”

“Would it not be better to fire our guns,—­that would frighten them?”

“Yes, sir, it would frighten the other lions, perhaps, but it would enrage this one so near to us, and he would certainly make a charge.  We had better throw a little gunpowder upon some ashes now and then, as we have but a small fire:  the flash will drive them away for the time.”

In the mean time the lion was making his meal upon the poor ox, and when any other of the hungry lions approached him, he would rush at them, and pursue them for some paces with a horrible growl, which made not only the poor oxen, but the men also, to shudder as they heard it.

In this manner was the night passed away, every one with his gun in his hand, expecting an immediate attack; but the morning at last dawned, to the great relief of them all.  The lions had disappeared, and they walked out to where the old lion had made his meal, and found that he had devoured nearly the whole of the ox; and such was the enormous strength of his jaws, that the rib-bones were all demolished, and the bones of the legs, which are known as the marrow-bones, were broken as if by a hammer.

“I really,” observed the Major, “have more respect for a lion, the more I become intimate with his feline majesty.”

“Well, but he is off,” observed Swinton, “and I think we had better be off too.”

CHAPTER XVIII.

The oxen were yoked, and the caravan proceeded at slow pace to gain the wished-for river.  As our travelers walked their horses—­for the poor animals had been without food or water for twenty-four hours, and all idea of chasing the various herds of animals which were to be seen in their path was abandoned for the present—­Swinton remarked, “We are not far from the track of the Mantatees, when they made their irruption upon the Caffres about eighteen months back.”