relative risks are not, therefore,
comparable; but Spencer's adventure with the "scavenger of the wilds,"
as the spotted hyena is sometimes aptly called, was something so
terrible that even he could not recollect it without shuddering.

He was out with his party on an extended trapping expedition, and one
day he chanced to get separated from his followers; and, partly overcome
by the intense heat and his fatigue, he lay down and fell asleep--about
the most dangerous thing a solitary traveller in the interior of Africa
can do. Some hours later, when the scorching sun was beginning to settle
down in the west, he was aroused by the sound of laughter not far away.

For the moment he thought his followers had found him, and were amused
to find him taking his difficulties so comfortably; but hearing the
laugh repeated he realised at once that no human being ever gave
utterance to quite such a sound; in fact, his trained ear told him it
was the cry of the spotted hyena. Now thoroughly awake, he sat up and
saw a couple of the ugly brutes about fifty yards away on his left. They
were sniffing at the air, and calling. He knew that they had scented
him, but had not yet perceived him.

In such a position, as sure a shot and one so well armed as Spencer was,
a man who knew less about wild animals and their habits would doubtless
have sent the two brutes to earth in double quick time, and thus
destroyed himself. But Spencer very well knew from their manner that
they were but the advance-guard of a pack. The appearance of the pack,
numbering about one hundred, coincided with his thought. To tackle the
whole party was, of course, utterly out of the question; to escape by
flight was equally out of the question, for hyenas are remarkably fast
travellers.

His only possible chance of escape, therefore, was to hoodwink them, if
he could, by feigning to be dead; for it is a characteristic of the
hyena to reject flesh that is not putrid. He threw himself down again,
and remained motionless, hoping the beasts would think him, though dead,
yet unfit for food. It was an off-chance, and he well knew it; but there
was nothing else to be done.

In a couple of seconds the advance-guard saw him, and, calling to their
fellows, rushed to him. The pack answered the cry and instantly
followed. Spencer felt the brutes running over him, felt their foul
breath on his neck, as they sniffed at him, snapping, snarling,
laughing; but he did not move. One