This kind of encounter demanded great presence of mind and steadiness of hand; the Assyrians were, therefore, trained to it from their youth up, and no hunter was permitted to engage in these terrible encounters without long preliminary practice.  Seeing the lion as they did so frequently, and at such close quarters, they came to know it quite as well as the Egyptians, and their sculptors reproduce it with a realism and technical skill which have been rarely equalled in modern times.  But while the Theban artist generally represents it in an attitude of repose, the Assyrians prefer to show it in violent action in all the various attitudes which it assumes during a struggle, either crouching as it prepares to spring, or fully extended in the act of leaping; sometimes it rears into an upright position, with arched back, gaping jaws, and claws protruded, ready to bite or strike its foe; at others it writhes under a spear-thrust, or rolls over and over in its dying agonies.  In one instance, an arrow has pierced the skull of a male lion, crashing through the frontal bone a little above the left eyebrow, and protrudes obliquely to the right between his teeth:  under the shock of the blow he has risen on his hind legs, with contorted spine, and beats the air with his fore paws, his head thrown back as though to free himself of the fatal shaft.  Not far from him the lioness lies stretched out upon its back in the rigidity of death.

[Illustration:  180.jpg PAINTINGS OF CHAIRS]

The “rimu,” or urus, was, perhaps, even a more formidable animal to encounter than any of the felido, owing to the irresistible fury of his attack.  No one would dare, except in a case of dire necessity, to meet him on foot.  The loose flowing robes which the king and the nobles never put aside—­not even in such perilous pastimes as these—­were ill fitted for the quick movements required to avoid the attack of such an animal, and those who were unlucky enough to quit their chariot ran a terrible risk of being gored or trodden underfoot in the encounter.  It was the custom, therefore, to attack the beast by arrows, and to keep it at a distance.  If the animal were able to come up with its pursuer, the latter endeavoured to seize it by the horn at the moment when it lowered its head, and to drive his dagger into its neck.  If the blow were adroitly given it severed the spinal cord, and the beast fell in a heap as if struck by lightning.  A victory over such animals was an occasion for rejoicing, and solemn thanks were offered to Assur and Ishtar, the patrons of the chase, at the usual evening sacrifice.

[Illustration:  181.jpg A UBUS HUNT]

     Drawn by Boudier, from a bas-relief in the British Museum.

The slain beasts, whether lion or urus, were arranged in a row before the altar, while the king, accompanied by his flabella, and umbrella-bearers, stood alongside them, holding his bow in his left hand.  While the singers intoned the hymn of thanksgiving to the accompaniment of the harp, the monarch took the bowl of sacred wine, touched his lips with it, and then poured a portion of the contents on the heads of the victims.  A detailed account of each hunting exploit was preserved for posterity either in inscriptions or on bas-reliefs.*