ng rain, for the wind shifted
frequently, and that was of course the only guide I had.

"At last, to my great satisfaction, I struck upon the river and kept
along its bank until I came to a large clump of trees; here we unsaddled
our horses, picked out a comparatively dry spot under a big tree, which
stood just at the edge of the river, wrapped ourselves in our rugs, and
prepared to pass the night as comfortably as we could. The river was
high, and my only fear was that it might overflow its banks and set us
afloat before morning. However, we had not been there long before the
rain ceased, the sky cleared, and the stars came out again; but as the
horses had done a long day's work on the previous day, I determined to
remain where I was until morning. Having been in the saddle all the
previous night, I slept heavily. The wind was still blowing strongly,
and I suppose that the noise in the trees, and the lapping of the water
by the bank close by, prevented my hearing the stamping of the horses,
which, under ordinary circumstances, would certainly have warned me of
the approaching danger. Suddenly I awoke with a terrific uproar. I
sprang to my feet, but was instantly knocked down, and a beast, I knew
to be a lion, seized me by the left shoulder. My revolver was, as
always, in my belt; I drew it out, and fired into the brute's eye; his
jaw relaxed, and I knew the shot was fatal. A terrible din was going on
all round; there was light enough for me to see that both the horses had
been pulled to the ground; two lions were rending the body of my
servant, and others were approaching with loud roars. I sprang to my
feet and climbed up into the tree, just as two more lions arrived upon
the spot. My servant had not uttered a cry, and was, I have no doubt,
struck dead at once. The horses ceased to struggle by the time I gained
my tree. At least twenty lions gathered round, and growled and
quarrelled over the carcases of the horses. When they had finished
these, they walked round and round the tree, roaring horridly; some of
them reared themselves against the trunk, as if they would try to climb
it, but the lion is not a tree-climber, and I had not much fear that
they would make the attempt I hoped that in the morning they would move
off; but they had clearly no intention of doing so, for, as it became
daylight, they retired a short distance and then either lay down or sat
upon their haunches in a semicircle fifty yards di