 A Tale of Three Lions by H. Ryder Haggard. CHAPTER I. THE INTEREST ON TEN SHILLINGS. Most of you will have heard that Alan Quartermaine, who was one of the parties that discovered King Solomon's mines some little time ago, and who afterwards came to live in England near his friend Sir Henry Curtis. He went back to the wilderness again, as those old hunters almost invariably do, on one pretext or another. They cannot endure civilization for very long, it's noise and racket... NOTE. This, of course, was written before Mr. Quartermaine's account of the adventures in the newly discovered country of Zoovendis of himself, Sir Henry Curtis and Captain John Good had been received in England. EDITOR. END OF THE NOTE. They cannot endure civilization for very long, it's noise and racket, and the omnipresence of broad-clothed humanity, proving more trying to their nerves than the dangers of the desert. I think that they feel lonely here, for it is a fact that is too little understood, though it has often been stated, that there is no loneliness like the loneliness of crowds, especially to those who are unaccustomed to them. What is there in the world, old Quartermaine would say, so desolate as to stand in the streets of the great city, and listen to the footsteps falling, falling, multitudinous as the rain, and watch the white line of faces as they hurry past. You know not whence, you know not wither. They come and go, their eyes meet yours with a cold stare. For a moment their features are written on your mind, and then they are gone forever. You will never see them again, they will never see you again. They come up out of the unknown, and presently they once more vanish into the unknown, taking their secrets with them. Yes, that is loneliness, pure and undefiled, but to one who knows and loves it, the wilderness is not lonely, because the spirit of nature is ever there to keep the wanderer company. He finds companions in the winds, the sunny streams bevel like nature's children at his feet. High above them, in the purple sunset, are domes and minarets and palaces, such as no mortal man has built, in and out of whose flaming doors the angels of the sun seem to move continually. And there, too, is the wild game, following its feeding grounds in great armies, with the springback thrown out before four skirmishers, then rank upon rank of long-faced bless-buck, marching and wheeling like infantry, and last, the shining troops of Quaga, and the fierce-eyed, shaggy, wilder beasts to take, as it were, the place of a Cossack-host that canks upon an army's planks. Oh, no, he would say, the wilderness is not lonely. For my boy, remember that the further you get from man, the nearer you grow to God. And though this is a saying that might well be disputed, it is one I am sure that anybody will easily understand, who has watched the sun rise and set on the limitless deserted plains, and sees the thunder chariots of the clouds roll in majesty, across the depths of unfathomable to sky. Well, at any rate, we went back again, and now, for many months, I have heard nothing at all of him, and to be frank, I greatly doubt if anybody will ever hear of him again. I fear that the wilderness, that has for so many years been a mother to him, will now also prove his grave, and the grave of those who accompanied him. For the quest upon which he and they have started is a wild one indeed. But while he was in England for those three years or so between his return from the successful discovery of the wise king's buried treasures, and the death of his only son, I saw a great deal of old Alan Quartermain. I had known him years before in Africa, and after he came home. Whenever I had nothing better to do, I used to run up to Yorkshire and stay with him, and in this way I at one time and another heard many of the incidents of his past life, and most curious some of them were. No man can pass all those years following the rough existence of an elephant hunter without meeting with many strange adventures, and in one way and another old Quartermain has certainly seen his share. Well, the story that I am going to tell you in the following pages is one of the later of these adventures, so I forget the exact year in which it happened. At any rate, I know that it was the only trip upon which he took his son Harry, who is since dead, with him, and that Harry was then about 14. And now for the story, which I will repeat as nearly as I can in the words in which Hunter Quartermain told it to me one night, in the old oak paneled vestibule of his house in Yorkshire. We were talking about gold mining. Gold mining, he broke in, ah, yes, I once went gold mining at Pilgrim's rest in the Transvaal, and it was after that that we had the business about Jim Jim and the lions. Do you know Pilgrim's rest? Well, it is, or was, one of the queerest little places you ever saw. The town itself was pitched in a stony valley, with mountains all about it and in the middle of such scenery as one does not often get the chance of seeing. Many and many is the time that I have thrown down my pick and shovel in disgust, clambered out of my claim, and walked a couple of miles or so to the top of some hill. Then I would lie down in the grass and look out over the glorious stretch of country. The smiling valleys, the great mountains touched with gold, real gold of the sunset, enclosed in sweeping groves of bush, and stare into the depths of the perfect sky above. Yes, and thank heaven I had got away from the cursing and the coarse jokes of the miners, and the voices of those bas-sut-au-cafiers, as they toiled in the sun, the memory of which is with me yet. Well, for some months I dug away patiently at my claim, till the very sight of a pick or a washing trough became hateful to me. A hundred times a day I lamented my own folly in having invested eight hundred pounds, which was about all that I was worth at the time, in this gold mining. But like other better people before me, I had been bitten by the gold bug, and now was forced to take the consequences. I bought a claim out of which a man had made a fortune, five or six thousand pounds at least, as I thought very cheap, that is, I gave him five hundred pounds down for it. It was all that I had made by a very rough year's elephant hunting, beyond the Zambezi, and I sighed deeply and prophetically when I saw my successful friend, who was a Yankee, sweep up the roll of standard bank notes with the lordly air of the man who has made his fortune, and crammed them in his brachious pockets. Well, I said to him, the happy vendor, it is a magnificent property, and I only hope that my luck will be as good as yours has been. He smiled. To my excited nerves, it seems that he smiled ominously, as he answered me in a peculiar Yankee drawl. I guess, stranger, as I aimed the one to make a man quarrel with his food, more especially when there ain't no more going arounds. And as for that, their claim, well, she's been a good nigger to me. But between you and me, stranger speaking, man to man, now that there ain't any filthy lacquer between us to obscure the features of the truth, I guess she's about worked out. I gasped. The fellow's effrontery took the breath out of me. Only five minutes before, he had been swearing by all his gods, and they appeared to be numerous and mixed, that there were half a dozen fortunes left in the claim, and that he was only giving it up because he was downright wary of shoveling the gold out. Don't look so vexed, stranger, went on to my tormentor. Perhaps there is some shine in the old girl yet. Anyway, you are a downright good fellow. You are, therefore you will, I guess have a real opportunity of working on the feelings of fortune. Anyway, it will bring the muscle up upon your arm, for the stuff is gun-common stiff, and, what is more, you will, in the course of a year, earn a sight more than $2,000 in value of experience. Then he went just in time for another moment I should have gone for him, and I saw his face no more. Well, I set to work on the old claim with my boy Harry and half a dozen caffiers to help me, which, seeing that I had put nearly all my worldly wealth into it, was the least that I could do. And we worked, my ward, we did work. Early and late we went at it, but never a bit of gold did we see. No, not even a nugget large enough to make a scarf pin out of. The American gentlemen had secured it all and left us the sleepings. For three months this went on, till at last I had paid away all, or very nearly all, that was left of our little capital in wages and food for the caffiers and ourselves. When I tell you that poor meal was sometimes as high as four pounds a bag, you will understand that it did not take long to run through all banking accounts. At last the crisis came. One Saturday night I had paid the man as usual, and bought a moit of mealy meal at sixty shillings for them to fill themselves with. And then I went with my boy Harry and sat on the edge of the great hall that we had dug in the hillside, and which we had in better mockery named Outerado. There we sat in the moonlight with our feet over the edge of the claim, and were melancholy enough for anything. Presently I pulled out my purse and emptied its content into my hand. There was a half-sowering, two-florent, nine-pence and silver, no coppers, for copper practically does not circulate in South Africa, which is one of the things that make living so dear here, in all exactly fourteen and nine-pence. There, Harry my boy, I said, that is the sum total of our worldly wealth, that whole has swallowed all the rest. By George, said Master Harry, I say, Father, you and I shall have to let ourselves out to work with the cafes and live on mealy-pep, and he sneaked at his unpleasant little joke. But I was in no mood for joking, for it is not a merry thing to dig like anything for months and be completely ruined in the process, especially if you happen to dislike digging, and consequently I resented Harry's light-hurtedness. Be quiet boy, I said, raising my hand, as though to give him a hymocuff, with the result that the half-sowering slipped out of it and fell into the gulf below. Oh, Father, said I, it's gone. There, Dad, said Harry, that would come of letting your angry patience rise. Now we are down to four and nine. I made no answer to those words of wisdom, but scrambled down the steep sides of the claim, followed by Harry to hunt for my little all. Well, we hunted and we hunted, but the moonlight is an uncertain thing to look for half-sowering by, and there was some loose soil about, for the cafes had knocked off working at this very spot a couple of hours before. I took a pick and raked away the clods of earth with it, in the hope of finding the coin but all in vain. At last in sheer annoyance I struck the sharp end of the pickaxe down into the soil, which was of a very hard nature. To my astonishment it sank in right up to the heft. Why, Harry, I said, this ground must have been disturbed. I don't think so, Father, he answered, but we will soon see. And he began to shovel out the soil with his hands. Oh, he said, presently, it's only some old stones. The pick has gone down between them. Look. And he began to pull at one of the stones. I say, Dad, he said presently, almost in a whisper, it's precious heavy, feel it. And he rose and gave me a round brownish lump about the size of a very large apple, which he was holding in both his hands. I took it curiously and held it up to the light. It was very heavy. The moonlight fell upon its rough unfills and crusted surface. And as I looked, curious little thrills of excitement began to pass through me, but I could not be sure. Give me your knife, Harry, I said. He did so, and resting the brown stone on my knee as crutch at its surface. Great heavens, it was soft. Another second and the secret was out. We had found a great nugget of pure gold, four pounds of it or more. It's gold, lad, I said, it's gold, or I am a Dutchman. Harry, with his eyes starting out of his head, glared down at the gleaming yellow stretch that I had made upon the virgin metal, and then burst out into yell upon yell of exultation, which went ringing away across the silent lambs like shrieks of somebody being murdered. Be quiet, I said. Do you want a wreath of the fields after you? Scarsely were the words out of my mouth when I heard a stealthy footsteps approaching. I promptly put the big nugget down and sat on it, and uncommonly hard it was. As I did so, I saw a lean dark face booked over the edge of the claim, and a pair of bidi eyes searching us out. I knew the face. It belonged to a man of very bad character, known as Handspike Tom, who had, I understood, been so named at the diamond fields because he had murdered his mate with a handspike. He was now no doubt prowling about like a human hyena to see what he could steal. Is that you, Antoha Waterman, he said? Yes, it's I, Mr. Tom, I answered politely. And what might all that there are yelling be, he asked? I was walking along a taking of the evening ear and the thinking on the stars, when I hear a howl after howl. Well, Mr. Tom answered, that is not to be wondered at, seeing that like yourself there are nocturnal birds. Howl after howl, he repeated sternly, taking no notice of my interpretation. And there stops and says, that's murder. And I listen again and thinks, no it ain't, that howl is a howl of exultation. Someone's been and got his fingers into a gummy-yellar pot elsewhere, and gun off his head in the sucking of them. Now, Hunter Waterman, is that right? Is it nuggets? Oh Lord! And he smacked his lips audibly. Great big yellow boys, is it them that you have just been and tumbled across? No, I said boldly, it isn't. The cruel gleam in his black eyes altogether overcoming my aversion to untruth, for I knew that if once he found out what it was that I was sitting on, and by the way I have heard of rolling in gold being spoken of as a pleasant process, but I certainly do not recommend anybody who values comfort to try sitting on it. I should run a very good chance of being hand-spiked before the night was over. If you want to know what it was, Mr. Tom, I went on, with my politest ear, although in agony from the nugget underneath, for I hold it is always best to be polite to a man who is so ready with a hand-spike. My boy and I have had a slight difference of opinion, and I was enforcing my view of the matter upon him, that's all. Yes, Mr. Tom, put in Harry beginning a weep, for Harry was a smart boy and saw the difficulty we were in. What was it? I hurled because father beat me. Well, now, did year, my dear boy, did year? Well, all I can say is that a played-out old claim is a wonderful queer sort of place to come to for to argify at ten o'clock of night. And what's more, my sweet youth, if ever I should have the argifying of year, and he leered unpleasantly at Harry, you won't holler in quite such a jolly sort of way. And now I'll be saying good night, for I don't like disturbing of a family party. Now I ain't that sort of man, I ain't. Good night to year, Hunter Quartermain, good night to year, my argified young one. And Mr. Tom turned away disappointed, and proud of elsewhere, like a human jackal, to see what he could see or kill. Thank goodness, I said, that slipped of the lump of gold. Now then, do you get up, Harry, and see if that consummate will and has gone? Harry did so, and reported that he had vanished towards Pilgrim's Rest, and then we set to work, and very carefully, but trembling with excitement, with our hands hollowed out, all the space of ground into which I had struck the pick. Yes, as I hoped, there was a regular nest of nuggets, twelve in all, running from the size of a hazelnut to that of a handshake. Though of course the first one was much larger than that. How they all came there, nobody can say, it was one of those extraordinary freaks, with stories of which, at any rate, all people acquainted with alluvial gold mining will be familiar. It turned out afterwards that the American, who sold me the claim, had in the same way made his pile, a much larger one than ours, by the way, out of a single pocket, and then worked for his six months without seeing color, after which he gave it up. At any rate, there are the nuggets where, to the value, as it turned out afterwards, of about twelve hundred and fifty pounds, so that after all, I took out of that whole four hundred and fifty pounds more than I put into it. We got them all out and wrapped them up in a handkerchief, and then, fearing to carry home so much treasure, especially as we knew that Mr. Handspike Tom was on the prowl, made up our minds to pass the night where we were. A necessity which, disagreeable as it was, was wonderfully sweetened by the presence of that handkerchief, full of virgin gold, the interest of my lost half-sovereign. Slowly the night wore away, for with the fear of Handspike Tom before my eyes I did not dare to go to sleep, and at last the dawn came. I got up and watched it grow, till it opened like a flower upon the eastern sky, and the sunbeams began to spring up in splendor from mountain-top to mountain-top. I watched it, and as I did so it flashed upon me with a complete conviction, which I had not felt before, that I had had enough of gold mining to last me the rest of my natural life, and I then and there I made up my mind to clear out of Pilgrim's rest, and go and shoot buffalo towards Delagoa Bay. Then I turned, took the pick and shawl, and although it was a Sunday morning, woke up hurry and set to work to see if there were any more nuggets about. As I expected there were none. What we had got had lain together in a little pocket filled with soil that felt quite different from the stiff stuff around and outside the pocket. There was not another trace of gold. Of course it's possible that there were more pocketfuls somewhere about, but all I have to say is I made up my mind that whoever found them I should not, and as a matter of fact I have since heard that this claim has been the ruin of two or three people, as it very nearly was the ruin of me. Harry, I said presently, I am going away this week towards Delagoa to shoot buffalo. Shall I take you with me or send you down to Durban? Oh, take me with you, father, begged Harry, I want to kill a buffalo. And supposing that the buffalo kills you instead, I asked. Oh, never mind, he said gaily, there are lots more where I came from. I rebuked him for his flippancy, but in the end I consented to take him. End of Chapter 1, the interest on 10 shillings. Chapter 2, of A Tale of Three Lions, by H. Ryder Haggard. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Christine. A Tale of Three Lions by A. Ryder Haggard. Chapter 2, What Was Found in the Pool Something over a fortnight had passed since the night when I lost half a sovereign and found twelve hundred and fifty pounds in looking for it, and instead of that horrid hole for which, after all, El Dorado was hardly a misnomer, a very different scene stretched away before us, clad in the silver robe of the moonlight. We were camped, hairy and eye, two calfeirs, a scotch cart and six oxen, on the swelling side of a great wave of bush-clad land. Just where we had made our camp, however, the bush was very sparse and only grew about in clumps, while here and there were single flat-topped mimosa trees. To our right, a little stream which had cut a deep channel for itself in the bosom of the slope flowed musically on between banks green with maiden hair, wild asparagus and many beautiful grasses. The bedrock here was red granite, and in the course of centuries of patient washing, the water had hollowed out some of the huge slabs in its path into great troughs and cups and these we used for bathing places. No Roman lady with her baths of porphyry and alabaster could have had a more delicious spot to bathe herself than we found within fifty yards of our skirm, or rough enclosure of mimosa thorn, that we had dragged together round the cart to protect us from the attacks of lions. That there were several of these brutes about I knew from their spore, though we had neither heard nor seen them. Our bath was a little nook, where the eddy of the stream had washed away a mess of soil, and on the edge of it there grew a most beautiful old mimosa thorn. Beneath the thorn was a large smooth slab of granite, fringed all round with maiden hair and other ferns, that sloped gently down to a pool of the clearest sparkling water, which lay in a bowl of granite about ten feet wide by five feet deep in the center. Here to this slab we went every morning to bathe, and that delightful bath is among the most pleasant of my hunting reminisce senses, and it is also for reasons which will presently appear among the most painful. It was a lovely night. Harry and I sat to the windward of that fire, where the two keffirs were busily employed in cooking some impala steaks of a buck which Harry to his great joy had shot that morning, and were as perfectly contended with ourselves and the world at large as two people could possibly be. The night was beautiful, and it would require somebody with more words on the tip of his tongue, than I have to describe properly the chastened majesty of those moonlit wilts. Away forever and forever away to the mysterious north rolled the great bush ocean, over which the silence brooded. There beneath us a mile or more to the right ran the white olive fund, and mirrored like flashed back the moon, whose silver spears were shivered on its breast, and then tossed and twisted lines of light far and wide about the mountains and the plain. Down upon the river banks grew great timber trees, that through the stillness pointed solemnly to heaven, and the beauty of the night lay upon them like a cloud. Everywhere was silence, silence in the stirred depths, silence on the bosom of the sleeping earth. Now, if ever, great soats my rise in a man's mind, and for a space he might forget his littleness, in the sense that he partook of the pure immensity about him. Hark! What was that? From far away down by the river there comes a mighty rolling sound, than another and another. It is the lion seeking his meat. I saw Harry shiver and torn a little pale. He was a plucky boy enough, but the roar of a lion heard for the first time in the solemn bosch, veiled at night is apt to shake the nerves of any lad. Lion's, my boy, I said. They are hunting down by the river there, but I don't think that you need make yourself uneasy. We have been here three nights now, and if they were going to pay us a visit, I think that they would have done so before this. However, we will make up the fire. Here, Farrow, do you and Jim Jim get some more wood before we go to sleep, else the cats will be pouring round you before morning. Farrow, a great brownie Swazi, who had been working for me at Pilgrim's Rest, laughed, rose and stretched himself, then calling to Jim Jim to bring the axe and the ram, started off in the moonlight towards a clump of sugarbush, where we cut our fuel from some dead trees. He was a fine fellow in his way, was Farrow, and I think that he had been named Farrow because he had an Egyptian caste of continents, and a royal sort of swagger about him. But his way was a somewhat peculiar way, on account of the uncertainty of his temper, and very few people could get on with him. Also, if he could find liquor, he would drink like a fish, and when he drank he became shockingly bloodthirsty. There were his bad points, his good ones were that, like most people of the Zulu blood, he became exceedingly attached if he took to you at all. He was a hardworking and intelligent man, and about as daredevil and plucky a fellow at the pinch, as I have ever had to do with. He was about five and thirty years of age or so, but not a cashla or ring man. I believe that he had got into trouble in some way in Swaziland, and the authorities of his tribe would not allow him to assume the ring, and that is why he came to work at the Goldfields. The other man, or rather lad, Jim Jim, was Amapoch Kaphir, Ork Nobnoza, and even in the light of subsequent events, I fear I cannot speak very well of him. He was an idle and careless young rascal, and only that very morning I had to tell Farrow to give him a beating for letting the oxen stray, which Farrow did with the greatest gusto, although he was by way of being very fond of Jim Jim. Indeed, I saw him consoling Jim Jim afterwards with a pinch of snuff from his own ear box, whilst he explained to him that the next time it came in the way of duty to flock him, he meant to trash him with the other hand, so as to cross the old cuts and make a pretty pattern on his back. Well, all they went. Though Jim Jim did not at all like leaving the camp at that hour, even when the moonlight was so bright and in due course returned safely enough with a great bundle of wood, I laughed at Jim Jim and asked him if he had seen anything, and he said yes. He had. He had seen two large yellow eyes staring at him from behind a bush and heard something snore. As however on further investigation the yellow eyes and the snore appeared to have existed only in Jim Jim's lively imagination, I was not greatly disturbed by this alarming report, but having seen to the making up of the fire got into the skirm and went quietly to sleep with Harry by my side. Some hours afterwards I woke up with a start. I don't know what woke me. The moon had gone down or at least was almost hidden behind the soft horizon of Bosch, only her red rim being visible. Also a wind had sprung up and was driving long hurrying lines of cloud across the starry sky, and our together a great change had come over the mood of the night. By the look of the sky I judged that we must be about two hours from daybreak. The oxen, which were as usual tied to the diesel boom of the Scotch cart, were very restless. They kept snuffling and blowing and rising up and lying down again, so I at once suspected that they must win something. Presently I knew what it was that they winded for within 50 yards of us a lion roared, not very loud but quite loud enough to make my heart come into my mouth. Farrow was sleeping on the other side of the cart and looking beneath it I saw him raise his head and listen. Lion in coos he whispered lion. Jim Jim also jumped up and by the faint light I could see that he was in a very great fright indeed. Thinking that it was as well to be prepared for emergencies I told Farrow to throw wood upon the fire and woke up hurry, who I verily believe was capable of sleeping happily through the crack of doom. He was a little scared at first but presently the excitement of the position came home to him and he grew quite anxious to see his majesty face to face. I got my rifle handy and gave Harry his. I vastly Richard's fouling block which is a very useful gun for our youth, being light and yet a good killing rifle and then we waited. For a long time nothing happened and I began to think that the best thing we could do would be go to sleep again, where suddenly I heard a sound more like a calf than a roar within about 20 yards of the skirm. We all looked out but could see nothing and then followed another period of suspense. It was very trying to the nerves, this waiting for an attack that might be developed from any quarter or might not be developed at all. And though I was an old hand at this sort of business I was anxious about Harry, for it is wonderful how the presence of anybody to whom one is attached unnerves a man in moments of danger. I know although it was not chilly enough I could feel that perspiration running down my nose and in order to relieve the strain on my attention employed myself in watching a beetle which appeared to be attracted by the fire light and was sitting before it thoughtfully rubbing his auntie knee against each other. Suddenly the beetle gave such a jump that he nearly pitched headlong into the fire and so did we all gave jumps I mean and no wonder for from right under the skirm fence there came a most frightful roar, a roar that literally made the scotch card shake and took the breath out of me. Harry made an exclamation. Jim Jim hold outright while the poor oxen who were terrified almost out of their hides shivered and lowered peterously. The night was almost entirely dark now where the moon had quite set and the clouds had covered up the stars so that the only light we had came from the fire which by this time was burning up brightly again. But as you know fire light is absolutely useless to shoot by. It is so uncertain and besides it penetrates but a very little way into the darkness as though if one is in the dark outside one can see it from far away. Presently the oxen after standing still for a moment suddenly vended the lion and did what I feared they would do. They began to scratch that is to try and break loose from the trektow to which they were tied to rush off madly into the wilderness. Lions now of this habit on the part of oxen which are I do believe the most foolish animals under the sun as sheep being a very Solomon compared to them. And it is by no means uncommon for a lion to get in such a position that the herd or span of oxen may win him. Scrack, break their rams and rush off into the bush. Of course once there they are helpless in the dark and then the lion chooses the one that he loves best and eats it him at his leisure. Well round and round went our six poor oxen nearly trampling us to death in their mad rush. Indeed had we not hastily tumbled out of the way we should have been trodden to death or at the least seriously injured. As it was Harry was run over and poor Jim Jim being caught by the trektow somewhat beneath the arm was hurried right across the skirm landing by my side only some paces off. Snap went the disable of the card beneath the trustworthy strain putt upon it. Had it not broken the card would have over set as it was in another minute. Oxen, card, trektow, rams, broken disable and everything were soon tied in one vast heaving, plunging, bellowing and seemingly inextricable knot. For a moment or two the state of affairs took my attention off from the lion that had caused it. But whilst I was wondering what your nurse was to be done next and how we should manage if the cattle broke loose into the bush and were lost for cattle frightened in this manner will so straight away like mad things. My thoughts were suddenly recalled to the lion in a very painful fashion. For at that moment I perceived by the light of the fire a kind of gleam of yellow traveling through the air towards us. The lion, the lion, hallowed Farah and as he did so he or as a she for it was a great gount lioness, held wild no doubt with hunger, lit right in the middle of the skirm and stood there in the smoky gloom lashing her tail and roaring. I seized my rifle and fired it at her, but what between the confusion, my agitation and the uncertain light I missed her and nearly shoot Farah. The flesh of the rifle, however, threw the whole scene into strong relief and a wild sight it was I can tell you. With the seizing mass of oxen twisted all around the cart in such a fashion that their heads looked as so they were growing out of their rumps and their horns seemed to part through from their backs. The smoking fire was just a blaze in the heart of the smoke. Jim Jim in the foreground where the oxen had thrown him in their wild rush stretched out there in terror and then as a center to the picture the great gount lioness glaring ground with hungry yellow eyes roaring and whining as she made up her mind what to do. It did not take her long, however, just the time that it takes a flash to die into darkness for before I could fire again or do anything. With the most fiendish snort she sprang upon poor Jim Jim. I heard the unfortunate loud shriek and then almost instantly I saw his legs round into the air. The lioness had seized him by the neck and with a sudden jerk thrown his body over her back so that his legs hung down upon the further side. Note I have known a lion carry a two-year-old ox over a stone wall four feet high in this fashion and a mile away to the bush beyond. He was subsequently poisoned by strichneen put into the carcass of the ox and I still have this cloth. Editor. End of the note. Then without the slightest hesitation and apparently without any difficulty she cleared the scurned face at a single bound and bearing poor Jim Jim with her vanished into the darkness beyond in the direction of the bathing place that I have already described. We jumped up perfectly mad with horror and fear and rushed wildly after her firing shots at haphazard on the chance that she would be frightened by them into dropping her prey but nothing could we see and nothing could we hear. The lioness had vanished into the darkness taking Jim Jim with her and to attempt to follow her till daylight was madness. We should only expose ourselves to the risk of a like fate. So we scared on her way hearts we crept back to the scurn and sat down to wait for the dawn which now could not be much more than an hour off. It was absolutely useless to try even to disentangle the ox until then. So all that was left for us to do was to sit and wonder how it came to pass that the one should be taken and the other left and to hope against hope that our poor servant might have been mercifully delivered from the lion's jaws. At length the faint dawn came stealing like a ghost up the long slope of bush and glinted on the tangled oxen's horns and with wide and frightened faces we got up and set to the task of disentangling the oxen till such time as there should be light enough to enable us to follow the trail of the lioness which had gone off with Jim Jim and here a fresh trouble awaited us for when at last with infinite difficulty we had disentangled the great helpless brutes it was only to find that one of the best of them was very sick. There was no mistake about the way he stood with his legs slightly apart and his head hanging down. He had got the red water I was sure of it. Of all the difficulties connected with life and traveling in South Africa those connected with oxen are perhaps the worst. The ox is the most exasperating animal in the world a negro accepted. He has absolutely no constitution and never neglects an opportunity of felling sick of some mysterious disease. He will get thin upon the slightest provocation and from mere maliciousness die of poverty whereas it is his chief delight to turn around and refuse to pull whenever he finds himself well in the center of a river or the wagon wheel nicely fast in a mud hole. Drive him a few miles over rough roads and you will find that he is food sore. Turn him loose to feed and you will discover that he has run away or if he has not run away he has of malice a furth of eaten tulip and poisoned himself. There is always something with him the ox is a brute. It was of a piece with his accustomed behavior for the one in question to break out on purpose probably with red water just when a lion had bowed off with his herd. It was exactly what I should have expected and I was therefore neither disappointed nor surprised. Well it was no use crying as I should almost have like to do because if this ox had red water it was probable that the rest of them had it too although they had been sold to me as salted that is proof against such diseases as red water and lung sick. One gets hardened to this sort of thing in South Africa in course of time for as suppose in no other country in the world it's the waste of animal life so great. So taking my rifle and telling Harry to follow me for we had to leave Faro to look after the oxen Faro's lean kind I called them. I started to see if anything could be found off or appertaining to the unfortunate Jim Jim. The ground around our little camp was hard and rocky and we could not hit off any spore of the lioness though just outside the skirm was a trap or two of blood. About 300 yards from the camp and a little to the right was a patch of sugar bush mixed up with the usual mimosa and for this I made thinking that the lioness would have been sure to take her prey so to devour it. On we pushed through the long grass that was bent down beneath the weight of the soaking door. In two minutes we were right through up to the size as wet as though we had waded through water. In due course however we reached the patch of bush and by the gray light of the morning cautiously and slowly pushed our way into it. It was very dark under the trees for the sun was not yet up so we walked with the most extreme care half expecting every minute to come across the lioness licking the bones of poor Jim Jim but no lioness could we see and as for Jim Jim there was not even a finger joint of him to be found evidently they had not come here so pushing through the bush we proceeded to hunt every other likely spot but with the same result I suppose she must have taken him right away I said at last sadly enough at any rate he will be dead by now so God have mercy on him we can't help him what's to be done now I suppose that we had better wash ourselves in the pool and then go back and get something to eat I'm filthy said Harry this was a practical if a somewhat unfeeling suggestion at least it struck me as unfeeling to talk of washing when poor Jim Jim had been so recently eaten however I did not let my sentiment carry me away so we went down to the beautiful spots that I have described to wash I was the first to reach it which I did by scrambling down the ferny bank then I turned round and started back with a yell as well I might for almost from beneath my feet there came the most awful snarl I had lit nearly upon the back of the lioness that had been sleeping on the slab where we always stood to dry ourselves after bathing with a snarl and a growl before I could do anything before I could even cock my rifle she had mounted right across the crystal pool and vanished over the opposite bank it was all done in an instant as quick as salt she had been sleeping on the slab and oh horror what was that sleeping beside her it was the red remains of poor Jim Jim lying on a patch of bloodstained rock oh father father freaked Harry look in the water I looked there floating in the center of the lovely tranquil pool was Jim Jim's head the lioness had bitten it right off and it had rolled down the sloping rock into the water end of the chapter 2 what was found in the pool chapter 3 from a tale of three lions by age rider Haggard this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org recording by Christine a tale of three lions by age rider Haggard chapter 3 Jim Jim is avenged we're never based in that pool again indeed for my part I could never look at its peaceful purity fringe drowned with waving ferns without thinking of that ghastly head which rolled itself off through the water when we tried to catch it poor Jim Jim we buried what was left of him which was not very much in an old bread bag and so whilst he lived his virtues were not great now that he was gone we couldn't have wept over him indeed Harry did weep outright while Pharaoh used very bad language in Zulu and I registered a quite little woe on my account that I would let daylight into that lioness before I was 48 hours older if by any means it could be done well we buried him and there he lies in the bread bag which I rather grudged him as it was the only one we had where lions will not trouble him anymore so perhaps the hyenas will if they consider that there is enough on him left to make it worth their while to dig him up however he won't mind that so there is an end of the book of Jim Jim the question that now remained was how to circumvent his murderous I know that she would be sure to return as soon as she was hungry again but I did not know when she would be hungry she had left so little of Jim Jim behind her that I should scarcely expect to see her the next night unless indeed she had cups still I felt that it would not be wise to miss the chance of her coming so we said about making preparations of her reception the first thing that we did was to strengthen the bush wall of the skirm by dragging a large quantity of the tops of thorn threes together and laying them one on the other in such a fashion that the thorns pointed outwards this after our experience of the fate of Jim Jim seemed a very necessary precaution since if where one goat can jump another can follow as the kafirs say how much more is this the case when an animal so active and so vigorous as the lion is concerned and now came the further question how were we to beguile the lioness to return lions are animals that have a strange knack of appearing when they are not wanted and keeping studiously out of way when their presence is required of course it was possible that if she had found Jim Jim to her liking she would come back to see if there were any more of his kind about but still it was not very relied on harry who as I have said was an eminently practical boy suggested to farrow that he should go and sit outside the skirm in the moonlight as a sort of bait assuring him that he would have nothing to fear as we would certainly kill the lioness before she killed him farrow however strangely enough did not seem to take to this suggestion indeed he walked away much put out with harry for having made it it gave me an idea however by Joe I said there is the sick ox he must die sooner or later so we may as well utilize him now about 30 yards to the left of our skirm as one stood facing down the hill towards the river was the stump of a tree that had been destroyed by lightning many years before standing a quiddish stand between what a little in front of two clumps of bush which were severly some 15 paces from it here was the very place to tie the ox and accordingly a little before sunset the sick animal was led forth by farrow and made fast there little knowing poor brute for what purpose and we began our long wiggle this time without a fire for our object was to attract the lioness and not to scare her for hour after hour we waited keeping ourselves awake by pinching each other it is by the way remarkable what a difference of opinion as to the force of pinches requisite to the occasion exists in the mind of pincher and pinched but no lioness came at last the moon went down and darkness swallowed up the world as the kafir say but no lions came to swallow us up we waited till dawn because we did not dare to go to sleep and then at last with many bad thoughts in our hearts we took such rest as we could get and that was not much that morning we went out shooting not because we wanted to for we were too depressed and tired but because we had no more meat for three hours or more we wondered about an embroiling sun looking for something to kill but with absolutely no results for some unknown reason the game had ground very scarce about the spot though when i was there two years before every sort of large game except rhinoceros and elephant was particularly abundant the lions or whom there were many alone remained and i fancy that it was the fact of the game they live on having temporarily migrated which made them so daring and voracious as a general rule a lion is an amiable animal enough if he is left alone but a hungry lion is almost as dangerous as a hungry man one hears a great many different opinions expressed as to whether or no the lion is remarkable for his courage but the result of my experience is that very much depends upon the state of his stomach a hungry lion will not stick at a trifle whereas a full one will flee at a very small rebuke well we hunted all about and nothing could we see not even a doiker or a bush buck and at last thoroughly tired and out of temper we started on our way back to camp passing over the brow of a steepish hill to do so just as we climbed the crest of the ridge i came to a stand for there about 600 yards to my left his beautiful curved horns outlined against the soft blue of the sky i saw a noble kudu ball strepsicheros kudu even at that distance for as you know my eyes are very keen i could distantly see the white stripes on its side when the light fell upon it and its large and pointed ears twitch as the flies worried it so far so good but how were we to get at it it was ridiculous to risk a shot at that great distance and yet both the ground and the wind lie very ill for stalking it seemed to me that the only chance would be to make a detour of at least a mile or more and come up on the other side of the kudu i called harry to my side and explained to him what i thought would be our best curse when suddenly without any delay the kudu saved us further trouble by suddenly starting off down the hill like a leaping rocket i do not know what had frightened it certainly we had not perhaps a hyena or a leopard a tiger as we call it there had suddenly appeared at any rate off it went running slightly towards us and i never saw a buck go faster i am afraid that for getting harry's presence i used strong language and really there was some excuse as for harry he stood watching the beautiful animals course presently it vanished behind a patch of bush to emerge a few seconds later about 500 pesos from us on a stretch of comparatively level ground that was strewn with boulders on it went clearing the boulders in its path with a succession of great bounds that were beautiful to behold as it did so i happened to look around at harry and perceived to my astonishment he had got his rifle to his shoulder you young donkey i exclaimed surely you're not going to and just at that moment the rifle went off and then i think i saw what was in this way one of the most wonderful things i ever remember in my hunting experience the kudu was at the moment in the air clearing a pile of stones with its four legs tucked up underneath it all of an instant the legs stretched themselves out in a spasmodic fashion it lit on them and they doubled up beneath it down when the noble buck down upon its head for a moment he seemed to be standing on his horns his hind legs high in the air and then over he rolled and lay still great heavens i said you why you've hit him he's dead as for harry he said nothing but merely looked scared as well he might for such a marvelous i may say such an appalling and ghastly fluke it has never been my lot to witness a man let alone a boy might have fired a thousand such shots without even touching the object which mind you was springing and bounding over rocks quite 500 yards away and here's this lad taking a snapshot and merely allowing for speed and elevation by instinct for he did not put up his sights had knocked the bull over as dead as a doornail well i made no further remark as the occasion was too solemn for talking but merely led the way to where the kudu had fallen there he lay beautiful and quite still and the air high up about halfway down his neck was a neat round hole the bullet had severeed the spinal marrow pressing through the vertebrae and away on the other side it was already evening when having cut as much of the best meat as we could carry from the bull and tied a red handkerchief and some totes of grass to his spiral horns which by the way must have been nearly five feet in length in the hope of keeping the jackals and as fogals vultures from him we finally got back to camp to find faro who was getting rather anxious at our absence ready to greet us with the pleasing intelligence that another ox was sick but even this dreadful bit of intelligence could not dash harry's spirits the fact of the matter being incredible as it may appear i do verily believe that in his heart of hearts he set down the death of the kudu to the credit of his own skill now though the lad was a pretty shot enough this of course was ridiculous and i told him so plainly by the time that we had finished our supper of kudu steaks which would have been better if the kudu had been a little younger it was time to get ready for jim jim's murderous accordingly we determined again to expose the unfortunate sick ox that was now absolutely on its last legs being indeed scarcely able to stand all the afternoon faro told us it had been walking round and round in a circle a scandal in the last stage of redwater generally do now it had come to a standstill and was swaying to and fro with its head hanging down so we tied him up to the stump of the tree as on the previous night knowing that if the lioness did not kill him he would be dead by morning indeed i was afraid that he would die at once in which case he would be but of little use as a bait for the lioness is a sportsman like animal and unless he's very hungry generally prefers to kill his own dinner though when that is once killed he will come back to it again and again then we again went through our experience of the previous night sitting there hour after hour till at last harry fell fast asleep and though i am accustomed to this sort of thing even i could scarcely keep my eyes open indeed i was just dropping off when suddenly faro gave me a push listen he whispered i was awake in a second and listening with all my ears from the clump of bush to the right of the lightning shattered stump to which a sick ox was tied came a faint crackling noise presently it was repeated something was moving there faintly and quietly enough but still moving perceptibly for in the intense stillness of the night any sound seemed loud i woke up harry who instantly said where is she where is she and began to point his rifle about in a fashion that was more dangerous to us and the oxen that to any possible lioness be quiet i whispered savagely and as i did so with a low and hideous growl a flash of yellow lights sped out of the clump of bush passed the ox and into the corresponding clump upon the other side the poor sick creature gave a sort of groan staggered round and then began to tremble i could see it do so clearly in the moonlight which was now very bright and i felt a brute for having exposed the unfortunate animal to such agony as he must undoubtedly be undergoing the lioness for it was she passed so quickly that we could not even distinguish her movements much less fire indeed at night it is absolutely useless to attempt to shoot unless the object is very close and standing perfectly still and then the light is so captive and it is so difficult to see the foresight that the best shot will miss more often than he hits she will be back again presently i said look out but for heaven's sake don't fire unless i tell you to hardly were the words out of my mouth when back she came and again passed the ox without striking him what on earth is she doing whispered hurry playing with it as a cat does with a mouse i suppose she will kill it presently as i spoke the lioness once more flushed out of the bush and this time sprang right over the doomed and trembling ox it was a beautiful sight to see her clear him in the bright moonlight as though it were a trick which he had been taught i believe that she has escaped from a circus whispered harry it's jolly to see her jump i said nothing but i thought to myself that if it was master harry did not quite appreciate the performance and small blame to him at any rate his teeth were chattering a little then came a longish pause and i began to think that the lioness must have gone away when suddenly she appeared again and with one mighty bound landed right onto the ox and struck it a frightful blow with her paw down it went and lay on the ground kicking feebly she put down her wicked looking head and with a fierce growl of contentment buried her long white teeth in the throat of the dying animal when she lifted her muzzle again it was all stained with blood she stood facing us uplickly leaking her bloody chops and making a sort of peering noise now's our time i whispered fire when i do i got on to her as well as i could but harry instead of waiting for me as i told him fired before i did and that of course hurried me but when the smoke cleared i was delighted to see that the lioness was rolling about on the ground behind the body of the ox which covered her in such a fashion however that we could not shoot again to make an end of her she's done for she's dead the yellow devil yelled faro in exultation and at that very moment the lioness with a sort of convulsive rush half rolled half sprang into the patch of thick bush to the right i fired after her as she went but so far as i could see without result indeed the probability is that i missed her clean at any rate she got to the bush in safety and once there began to make such a diabolical noise as i never heard before she would whine and shriek with pain and then burst out into perfect volleys of roaring that shook the whole place well i said we must just let her roar to go into that bush after her at night would be madness at that moment to my astonishment and alarm there came an answering roar from the direction of the river and then another from behind the spell of bush evidently there were more lions about the wounded lioness redoubled her efforts with the object i suppose of summoning the others to her assistance at any rate they came and quickly too for within five minutes peeping through the bushes of our skirm fence we saw a magnificent lion bounding along towards us through the tall tambuki grass that in the moonlight looked for all the world like ripening corn on he came in great leaps and the glorious sight it was to see him when within 50 yards or so he stood still in an open space and roared the lioness roared too then there came a third roar and another great black man lions talked majestically up and joined number two to really i began to realize what the ox must have undergone now harry i whispered whatever you do don't fire it's too risky if they let us be let them be well the pair marched off to the bush where the wounded lioness was now roaring double tides and the three of them began to snarl and grumble away together there presently however the lioness sees drawing and the two lions came out again the black maned one first to prospect i suppose walked to where the carcass of the oxley and sniffed at it oh what a shot whispered harry who was trembling with excitement yes i said but don't fire they might all of them come for us harry said nothing but whether it was from the natural impetuity of youth or because he was thrown off his balance by excitement or from sheer recklessness and devil meant i'm sure i cannot tell you never having been able to get a satisfactory explanation from him but at any rate the fact remains he without word or warning entirely disregarding my exhortations lifted up his westly richards and fired at the black maned lion and what is more hit it slightly on the flank next second there was a most awful roar from the injured lion he glared around him and roared with pain for he was badly stung and then before i could make up my mind what to do the great black man brute clearly ignorant of the cause of his hurt sprang right at the throat of his companion to whom he evidently attributed his misfortune it was a curious sight to see the astonishment of the other lion at this most unprovoked assault over he rolled with an angry snarl and onto him sprang the black maned demon and began to worry him this finally awoke the yellow maned lion to a sense of the situation and i'm bound to say that he rose to it in a most effective manner somehow or other he got to his feet and roaring and snarling frightfully close to his mighty fall then ensued a most tremendous scene you know what the shocking thing it is to see two large dogs fighting with abandonment well a whole hundred of dogs could not have looked half so terrible as those two great brutes as they rolled and roared and ran in their hurried rage they gripped each other they tore at each other's throat till their manes came out in handfuls and the red blood streamed down their yellow hides it was an awful and a wonderful thing to see the great cats tearing at each other with all the fierce energy of their savage strengths and making the night hideous with their hearts shaking noise and the fight was a grand one too for some minutes it was impossible to say which was getting the best of it but at last i saw that the black maned lion though he was slightly bigger was failing i'm inclined to think that the wound in his line crippled him anyway he began to get the worst of it which served him right as he was the aggressor still i could not help feeling sorry for him for he had fought a gallant fight when his antagonist finally got him by this road and struggle and strike out as he would began to shake the life out of him over and over the road together a hideous and aphe inspiring spectacle but the yellow one would not lose his hold and at length poor black man grew faint his breast came in great snorts and seemed to rattle in his nostrils then he opened his huge mouth gave the ghost of a roar quivered and was dead when he was quite sure that the victory was his own the yellow maned lion lost his grip and sniffed at the fallen fall then he licked the deadline's eye and next with his four feet resting on the carcass sent up his own chant of victory that went rolling and peeling down the dark path of the night and at this point i interfered taking a careful sight at the center of his body in order to give the largest possible margin for error i fired and sent a point 517 express bullet right through him and down he dropped dead upon the carcass of his mighty foe after that fairly satisfied with our performances we slept peaceably till dawn leaving pharaoh to keep watch in case any more lions should take it into their heads to come our way when the sun was well up we arose and went very cautiously at least farrow and i did for i would not allow harry to come to see if we could find any trace of the wounded lioness she had seized roaring immediately upon the arrival of the two lions and had not made a sound sense from which we concluded that she was probably dead i was armed with my express while farrow in whose hands a rifle was indeed a dangerous weapon to his companions had an axe on our ways we stopped to look at the two died lions they were magnificent animals both of them but their pelts were entirely boiled by the terrible maulings they had given to each other which was a sad pity in another minute we were following the blood spore of the wounded lioness into the bush where she had taken refuge this i need hardly say we did with the utmost caution indeed i for one did not at all like the job and was only consoled by the reflection that it was necessary and that the bush was not sick well we stood there keeping as far from the trees as possible searching and looking about but no lioness could we see though we saw plenty of blood she must have again somewhere to die for all i said in zulu yes in kuz he answered she has certainly gone away hardly were the words out of his mouth when i heard a roar and starting around saw the lioness emerge from the very center of a bush in which she had been curled up just behind farrow up she went on to her hind legs and as she did so i noticed that one of her poor paws was broken near the shoulder for it hung limply down up she went towering right over farrow's head as she didn't so lifting her uninjured paw to strike him to the earth and then before i could get my rifle round or do anything to avert the uncommon catastrophe the zulu did a very brave and clever thing realizing his own imminent danger he bounded to the one side and swinging the heavy axe around his head brought it down right onto the back of the lioness severing the vertebrae and killing her instantaneously it was wonderful to see her collapse all in a heap like an empty sack my ward farrow i said that was well done and none too soon yes he answered with a little love it was a good stroke in kuz jim jim will sleep better now then calling hurry to us we examined the lioness she was old if one might judge from her worn teeth and not very large but sickly made and must have possessed extraordinary vitality to have lived so long shot as she was for in addition to her broken shoulder my express bullet had blown a great hole in her middle that one might have put a fist into well that is the story of the death of poor jim jim and how we avenged it it is rather interesting in its way because of the fight between the two lions of which i never saw the like in all my experience and i know something of lions on their manners and how did you get back to pilgrim's rest i asked hunter quatermain when he had finished his yarn ah we had a nice job with that he answered the second sick ox died and so did another and we had to get on as best as we could with three harnessed unicorn while we pushed behind we did about four miles a day and it took us nearly a month during the last week of which we pretty well start i noticed i said that most of your trips ended in disaster of some sort or another and yet you went on making them which strikes one as a little strange yes i dare say but then remember i got my living for many years out of hunting besides half the charm of the thing lay in the dangers and disasters though they were terrible enough at the time another thing is my trips were not all disastrous sometime if you like i will tell you a story of one which was very much the reverse for i made several thousand pounds after fit and so one of the most extraordinary sites a hunter ever came across it was on the strips that i made the bravest native woman i ever knew her name was mava but it's too late now and besides i'm tired of talking about myself post the water will you end of the chapter three jim jim is avenged and the end of the book a tale of three lions by age rider haggard