to hear the man-eaters growling and purring and
crunching up bones about seventy yards from the crib. I could not
understand what they had found to eat, as I had heard no commotion in
the camps, and I knew by bitter experience that every meal the brutes
obtained from us was announced by shrieks and uproar. The only
conclusion I could come to was that they had pounced upon some poor
unsuspecting native traveller. After a time I was able to make out
their eyes glowing in the darkness, and I took as careful aim as was
possible in the circumstances and fired; but the only notice they paid
to the shot was to carry off whatever they were devouring and to retire
quietly over a slight rise, which prevented me from seeing them. There
they finished their meal at their ease.

As soon as it was daylight, I got out of my crib and went towards the
place where I had last heard them. On the way, whom should I meet but
my missing guest, Mr. Whitehead, looking very pale and ill, and
generally dishevelled.

"Where on earth have you come from?" I exclaimed. "Why didn't you turn
up to dinner last night?"

"A nice reception you give a fellow when you invite him to dinner," was
his only reply.

"Why, what's up?" I asked.

"That infernal lion of yours nearly did for me last night," said
Whitehead.

"Nonsense, you must have dreamed it!" I cried in astonishment.

For answer he turned round and showed me his back. "That's not much of
a dream, is it?" he asked.

His clothing was rent by one huge tear from the nape of the neck
downwards, and on the flesh there were four great claw marks, showing
red and angry through the torn cloth. Without further parley, I hurried
him off to my tent, and bathed and dressed his wounds; and when I had
made him considerably more comfortable, I got from him the whole story
of the events of the night.

It appeared that his train was very late, so that it was quite dark
when he arrived at Tsavo Station, from which the track to my camp lay
through a small cutting. He was accompanied by Abdullah, his sergeant
of askaris, who walked close behind him carrying a lighted lamp. All
went well until they were about half-way through the gloomy cutting,
when one of the lions suddenly jumped down upon them from the high
bank, knocking Whitehead over like a ninepin, and tearing his back in
the manner I had seen. Fortunately, however, he had his carbine with
him, and instantly fired. The flash and the loud report must ha