irm in Holland, who negotiate for the
purchase of these ferocious wild animals for menageries, secured, by
promises of great help and large reward, a band of intrepid native
hunters, to procure, if it were within the range of possibility, this
famed lion, alive.

[Illustration: A BEAUTIFUL DEER.]

White men joined in the hunt. Brave Englishmen and fearless Americans
attached themselves to the party, and many were the hair-breadth
escapes and critical situations that crowded upon their path.

On reaching the lion's neighborhood, they took counsel as to the best
way of coming upon him, not knowing just where his lair might be; but
soon they were guided to him by a distant roaring. The advance hunters
caught their first glimpse of him before he was aware of their
presence. He had slain his prey--the pretty creature lay near the
jungle lake, the sword grass and the poisonous marsh flowers
flaunting their lush growth all about. The animal's smooth coat was
brown and glossy, and its black hoofs shone bright in the sunshine.
The lion repeated the same expressions of gratified savagery he had
indulged in when he had devoured the native. He strode about, lashing
his tail and roaring.

[Illustration: HE WAS FINALLY CAGED.]

The fearful encounter began! Many of the natives were killed. One
young English nobleman was thought to have received his death wound,
when they came to close quarters. The creature was overcome by numbers
and heroic bravery at last. He was maimed, disabled and secured, in
the deft and expeditious way they have learned in dealing with these
animals. He was finally caged, and the rejoicings of the natives knew
no bounds; the exploit was celebrated with feasting, dancing and wild
observances, the women and the children joining in the uncouth
festivities.

He was removed by his foreign purchasers, and eventually secured by a
City Park Commission, and was liberated to walk about a spacious cage,
to delight the thousands who visit the menagerie, that affords so much
instructive amusement. He usually lies down in one corner, and
although he has lost much of his magnificent appearance, he is still
worthy to be called the "Forest King."

If you happen to be in his section when he gets hungry and calls for
his dinner, you will be greatly astonished, if not frightened, at the
sound of his voice. It is like nothing else in nature. It vibrates to
the roof of the vast structure, and the windows rattle in their
fr