the following is mr. cumming's account of a fearful adventure, in which he lost one of his most valuable servants:

on the 29th we arrived at a small village of bakalahari. these natives told me that elephants were abundant on the opposite side of the river. i accordingly resolved to halt here and hunt, and drew my wagons up on the river's bank, within thirty yards of the water, and about one hundred yards from the native village. having outspanned, we at once set about making for the cattle a kraal of the worst description of thorn trees. of this i had now become very particular, since my severe loss by lions on the first of this month; and my cattle were, at night, secured by a strong kraal, which enclosed my two wagons, the horses being made fast to a trektow, stretched to the two hind-wheels of the wagons. i had yet, however, a fearful lesson to learn as to the nature and character of the lion, of which i had at one time entertained so little fear; and on this night a horrible tragedy was to be acted in my little lonely camp of so very awful and appalling a nature as to make the blood curdle in our veins. i worked till near sun down at one side of the kraal with hendrick, my first wagon driver—i cutting down the trees with my axe, and he dragging them to the kraal. when the kraal for the cattle was finished, i turned my attention to making a pot of barley broth, and lighted a fire between the wagons and the water, close on the river's bank, under a dense grove of shady trees, making a sort of kraal around our sitting place for the evening.

the hottentots, without any reason, made their fire about fifty yards from mine; they according to their usual custom, being satisfied with the shelter of a large dense bush. the evening passed away cheerfully. soon after it was dark we heard elephants breaking the trees in the forest across the river; and once or twice i strode away into the darkness some distance from the fireside, to stand and listen to them. i little, at that moment, deemed of the imminent peril to which i was exposing my life, nor thought that a blood-thirsty man-eater lion was crouching near, and only watching his opportunity to spring into the midst of us, and consign one of our number to a most horrible death. about three hours after the sun went down i called to my men to come and take their coffee and supper which was ready for them at my fire; and after supper three of them returned before their comrades to their own fireside, and lay down; these were john stofolus, hendrick, and ruyter. in a few minutes an ox came out by the gate of the kraal and walked out by the back of it. hendrick got up and drove him in again, and then went back to his fireside and lay down. hendrick and ruyter lay on one side of the fire under one blanket, and john stofolus lay on the other. at this moment i was sitting taking some barley-broth; our fire was very small, and the night was pitch-dark and windy. owing to our proximity to the native village the wood was very scarce, the bakalahari having burnt it all in their fires.

suddenly the appalling and murderous voice of an angry blood-thirsty lion burst upon my ears within a few yards of us, followed by the shrieking of the hottentots. again and again the murderous roar of attack was repeated. we heard john and ruyter shriek, "the lion, the lion!" still, for a few moments, we thought he was chasing one of the dogs round the kraal; but, the next instant, john stofolus rushed into the midst of us, almost speechless with fear and terror, his eyes bursting from their sockets, and shrieked out, "the lion, the lion! he has got hendrick; he dragged him away from the fire beside me. i struck him with the burning brands upon his head, but he would not let go his hold. hendrick is dead! oh, god! hendrick is dead! let us take fire and seek him!"

the rest of my people rushed about shrieking and yelling as if they were mad. i was at once angry with them for their folly, and told them if they did not stand still and keep quiet the lion would have another of us; and that very likely there was a troop of them. i ordered the dogs, which were nearly all fast, to be made loose, and the fire to be increased as far as could be. i then shouted hendrick's name, but all was still. i told my men that hendrick was dead, and that a regiment of soldiers could not now help him, and, hunting my dogs forward, i had every thing brought within the cattle-kraal, when we lighted our fire and closed the entrance as well as we could. my terrified people sat round the fire with guns in their hand till the day broke, still fancying that every moment the lion would return and spring again into the midst of us.

when the dogs were first let go, the stupid brutes, as dogs often prove when most required, instead of going at the lion, rushed fiercely on one another, and fought desperately for some minutes. after this, they got his wind, and going at him, disclosed to us his position; they kept up a continual barking until the day dawned, the lion occasionally springing after them and driving them in upon the kraal. the horrible monster lay all night within forty yards of us, consuming the wretched man whom he had chosen for his prey. he had dragged him into a little hollow at the back of a thick bush, beside which the fire was kindled, and there he remained till the day dawned, careless of our proximity.

it appeared that when the unfortunate hendrick rose to drive in the ox, the lion had watched him to his fireside, and he had scarcely lain down when the brute sprang upon him and ruyter, for both lay under one blanket, with his appalling murderous roar, and, roaring as he lay, grappled him with his fearful claws, and kept biting him on his breast and shoulder, all the while feeling for his neck; having got hold of which, he dragged him away backwards round the bush into the dense shade.

as the lion lay upon the unfortunate man he faintly cried, "help me, help me! oh, god! men, help me!" after which the fearful beast got a hold of his neck, and then all was still, except that his comrades heard the bones of his neck cracking between the teeth of the lion. john stofolus had lain with his back to the fire on the opposite side, and on hearing the lion he sprang up, and, seizing a large flaming brand, he had belabored him on the head with the burning wood; but the brute did not take any notice of him. the bushman had a narrow escape; he was not altogether scatheless, the lion having inflicted two gashes in his seat with his claws.

the next morning, just as the day began to dawn, we heard the lion dragging something up the river-side under cover of the bank. we drove the cattle out of the kraal, and then proceeded to inspect the scene of the night's awful tragedy. in the hollow, where the lion had lain consuming his prey, we found one leg of the unfortunate hendrick, bitten off below the knee, the shoe still on his foot; the grass and bushes were all stained with his blood, and fragments of his pea-coat lay around.

poor hendrick! i knew the fragments of that old coat, and had often marked them hanging in the dense covers where the elephant had charged after my unfortunate after-rider. hendrick was by far the best man i had about my wagons, of a most cheerful disposition, first-rate wagon driver, fearless in the field, ever active, willing, and obliging: his loss to us all was very serious. i felt confounded and utterly sick in my heart; i could not remain at the wagons, so i resolved to go after elephants to divert my mind. i had this morning heard them breaking the trees on the opposite side of the river. i accordingly told the natives of the village my intentions; and having ordered my people to devote the day to fortifying the kraal, i started with piet and ruyter as my after-riders.

it was a very cold day. we crossed the river, and at once took up the fresh spoor of a troop of bull elephants. these bulls unfortunately joined a troop of cows, and the bulls were off in a moment, before we could even see them. one remarkably fine old cow charged the dogs. i hunted this cow and finished her with two shots from the saddle. being anxious to return to my people before night, i did not attempt to follow the troop.

my followers were not a little gratified to see me returning, for terror had taken hold of their minds, and they expected that the lion would return, and, emboldened by the success of the preceding night, would prove still more daring in his attack. the lion would most certainly have returned, but fate had otherwise ordained. my health had been better in the last three days: my fever was leaving me, but i was, of course, still very weak. it would still be two hours before the sun would set, and feeling refreshed by a little rest, and able for further work, i ordered the steeds to be saddled, and went in search of the lion.

i took john and carey as after-riders, armed, and a party of the natives followed up the spoor and led the dogs. the lion had dragged the remains of poor hendrick along a native footpath that led up the river's side. we found fragments of his coat all along the spoor, and at last the mangled coat itself. about six hundred yards from our camp a dry river's course joined the limpopo. at this spot was much cover, and heaps of dry reeds and trees deposited by the limpopo in some great flood. the lion had left the footpath and entered this secluded spot. i at once felt convinced that we were upon him, and ordered the natives to make loose the dogs. these walked suspiciously forward on the spoor, and next minute began to spring about, barking angrily, with all their hair bristling on their backs: a crash upon the dry reeds immediately followed—it was the lion bounding away.

several of the dogs were extremely afraid of him, and kept rushing continually backwards springing aloft to obtain a view. i now pressed forward and urged them on; old argyll and bles took up his spoor in gallant style and led on the other dogs. then commenced a short but lively and glorious chase, whose conclusion was the only small satisfaction that i could obtain to answer for the horrors of the preceding evening. the lion held up the river's bank for a short distance and took away through some wait-a-bit thorn cover, the best he could find, but nevertheless open. here, in two minutes, the dogs were up with him, and he turned and stood at bay. as i approached, he stood, his horrid head right to me, with open jaws growling fiercely, his tail waving from side to side.

on beholding him my blood boiled with rage. i wished that i could take him alive and torture him, and setting my teeth, i dashed my steed forward within thirty yards of him and shouted, "your time is up, old fellow." i halted my horse, and, placing my rifle to my shoulder, i waited for a broadside. this, the next moment, he exposed, when i sent a bullet through his shoulder and dropped him on the spot. he rose, however, again, when i finished him with a second in the breast. the bakalahari now came up with wonder and delight. i ordered john to cut off his head and forepaws and bring them to the wagons, and mounting my horse i galloped home, having been absent about fifteen minutes. when the bakalahari women heard that the man-eater was dead, they all commenced dancing about with joy, calling me their father.