ual man-eaters. I have heard of whole communities being broken up
by the brutes. It was useless for the unfortunate people to move from
one spot to another, as the man-eaters invariably followed them. The
Amangwane horde wandered for eight years mostly over the plains of the
Orange Free State after having been driven out by Tshaka. It was
related to me by some of the few survivors of that awful pilgrimage
with whom I have foregathered, that for years man-eating lions followed
them, taking toll of the unhappy stragglers. After a time this was
taken quite as a matter of course.

I have often seen it stated that lions will not eat carrion. This is
quite erroneous; I am inclined to think that they occasionally prefer
meat that is tainted. I have known them gorge at the carcass of an ox
which had died of tsetse bite, and which had lain putrefying for
several days, when there were sick oxen in the immediate vicinity to be
had for the mere trouble of killing.

I was one of those who, in 1874, rescued the fever stricken Alexandre
party from their ghastly camp on the seaward slope of the Lebomba. Of
the original eight members, three were dead, and the survivors were so
weak and spent that they were unable to do more in the matter of
interment than scoop shallow trenches within a few yards of the
shelter, lay the bodies of their dead companions therein, and cover
them up with sand. Yet these were unearthed several times by lions,
which grew so fearless that the firing of a shot would not always scare
them away. Once the lions came up and regarded the unfortunate beings
in broad daylight, and then, as though they had deliberately made a
choice, proceeded to unearth a corpse.

Most of this took place during the absence of the one member of the
party who was still able to move about, but as he had to fetch water
every day in a demijohn from a spot eight miles distant, he was usually
away. However, the account of their experiences given by the sick men
was amply corroborated by awful but quite indescribable evidence.

The rencontre of Morisot and Campbell at Constantinople reminds me of a
somewhat similar experience. When I was camped near Ship Mountain, a
messenger arrived one night from the camp of the hunters recently
alluded to, asking whether we had, by any chance, a man among us
possessing any surgical knowledge. One of the party, a man named Tyrer,
had been gored by a buffalo and badly hurt. Unfortunately we could give
no