Ladies and Gentlemen,

This is from the book THE STORY OF A LION HUNT, written by Arnold Wienholt in 1922.

"...The lions were now crossing a bit of open country ahead at possibly 400 yards distance from me, a big male in the middle of two lionesses; they were all on the move and I made up my mind to have a shot at the lion while I had the chance. My bullet hit him hard, knocking him right round, and thereupon he gave a violent display of bad timber, tearing up the ground, staggering about and roaring, his tail straight out behind him. He behaved, in fact, just like an ill-tempered buck jumper finishing up an unsuccessful set-to. The lion's performance having carried him behind a little broken tree, which prevented me getting a second clear shot at him, I refrained from firing at either of the lionesses lest I might have a second wounded beast to manage......

I had an unhappy feeling that about the worst thing that could have happened had really taken place, and the absence of all enthusiasm on the part of the boys when I prepared to follow up once more the track of the lions fully confirmed the idea. The ground was scratched and blood stained where the lion had been hit, and we followed up the spoor very carefully. The lion, we found, after moving about 200 yards and being evidently pretty sick, had then laid down underneath a bush, leaving a pool of blood where he had stopped.....The boys were frightened, but still kept together pluckily enough and slowly followed the spoor. Qumano, however, had evidently shot his bolt; he drew the line at following a wounded lion, and he is not to be blamed, for nobody knows more about the lions than these little wild men."

They decided to leave the lion spoor as it went into some bush, and agreed to come back the next day to see if hopefully the lion has died.

"Starting the next morning, I was pleased that all my boys, bearers as well as hunters, fell into line behind me, with of course, the two bushmen. The dozen natives, all armed with spears, and following in single line, looked quite formidable, though I was aware not much reliance could be placed upon my army....

We picked up the tracks of the lions, but it was wretched country for the pursuit. Twice the boys cleared out with a false alarm, and it was plain they were all a trifle "jumpy".

Several hours later, the came to a patch of growth, and decided to set fire to it, just in case the lions were in there.

"...Suddenly, a noise like the squalling of a huge angry tom-cat brought the discussion to an end. The noise came from the lion himself, and, stuck between us and the advancing line of fire, he was clearly in a very angry and perhaps excusably bad temper. Immediately there was a wild hullabaloo and a general rush amongst my boys, and in very much less time than it takes to tell I found myself alone.

At first I expected the lion to show up at any moment, but as the minutes passed and he did not come, my tension slackened a little and I glanced over my shoulder to see where my boys were. Perched up in three or four trees, some fifty yards to my rear, they all were, and the twelve niggers thus settled on the branches, one above the other, like a flock of great blackbirds, presented a distinctly comical appearance. They are not to be blamed for bolting. Their attitude now said quite plainly, "We have done our share in bringing him up to the lion; if the white man likes to remain down there looking for trouble, well and good; it's his funeral, not ours"

"...Plainly the lion was lessening the distance between us, and I could hear him breathing as though in distress, like a horse gone in the wind. It was impossible to see him, but at any rate I could locate roughly the direction in which he was lying. I began very carefully and slowly (with a "the headmaster wishes to see you after twelve" feeling) to work my way towards where I heard him, stopping to listen every time a gust of wind deadened the sound of his breathing. Slowly and with the greatest of care I advance some ten to twelve yards, expecting every second to see the lion, and feeling that if I could just get time to raise my rifle and cover him it settle the matter at once. I had just worked up to a straggly young thorn bush, and crouching behind it, when in a flash I saw the lion, moving, and moving rapidly, towards me. With poor generalship I had gotten into a bad place, since, though I could see him plainly, the thorn bush was too high to shoot over, and no one would dare attempt to shoot through it. I could neither run away or remain where I was, so I had to step out clear of the bush, almost towards the charging beast. He was then quite close, within twenty yards perhaps. There was no time to kneel and get a sight on the broad chest: I had simply to through up the rifle like a shotgun and shoot straight into him. Where I hit him or whether I missed him entirely, I did not know. I only realized I had fired, and that he was still moving, and was now nearly upon me. This certainty that he had not been stopped brought a nasty tightening up sort of feeling, which was perhaps the most unpleasant part of the whole affair....

After knocking me down, the lion rushed in on my right side, and instinctively I tried to ward him off by shoving my rifle, which I still had hold of, up against him. He bit savagely on this several times, biting right through and cracking the thin part of the stock. Then he seized me and bit me several times through the wrist, breaking it badly and splintering some of the small bones. These bites hurt like fury at the moment: it was like a nine inch nail being continually driven through ones hand. The lion bit very quickly, but with a horribly silent ferocity. He would have done better, I think, if he had taken more time over it. Then came several bites above the wrist and a big bite cracking the bone of the forearm below the elbow. My biceps caught the next bite, which cut clean to the bone, the muscle opening out like a cut in a leg of mutton. A bite through the shoulder followed. As weakness made me lower the rifle, the lion, with a quick shuffle with his forefeet, closed up with me, whipping down his head and biting me twice on the chest. These bites too, hurt very badly, and the sight of his big, hairy head, so near that we almost rubbed noses, was unlovely and offensive. Suddenly, after biting me on the chest, he whipped around and cleared out of sight back in the bushes. I should like to describe him as staggering away to die, but as a matter of strict truth he appeared to make off fairly briskly. Why he left me in this abrupt and unexpected way I do not know.�

While the lion was busy chewing our friend up, the boys on the trees used the opportunity to leave as much distance between them and the one sided battle that is taking place.

Serves him right! Deserved what he got after taking a shot at that distance and leaving the lion to suffer until the next day. On top of that he does'nt have the guts to go into the bush to finish the lion off and sets the bush alight.

Saeed, this guy took a 400 yard shot! What was he shooting, scoped? off sticks or offhand? I have to tell you that I have NO idea where any of my rifles shoot at 400 yards. Also, having shot metal silhouette, the thought of a 400 yard offhand shot at an animal that has teeth and often uses them just gives me the shits, especially if I have to "sort it out". I think that the native trackers had it right!
Peter.

well, that cured my constipation......

400 yards? I think we had a go round about LD shooting...

NOT finishing the job, that day? COWARD

jeffe

Saeed,

That book is so old I'm not even going to try to find a copy. Thank goodness.

I love it when some guys go on about how dangerous game is not dangerous. I wonder how many of those old-timers just mysteriously never showed up at camp again.

Good on the Lion.

400 yds on a lion! A very poor example of sportsmenship, IMO!

Saeed,

Thanks for the except! I love the style of writing back then.

Gentlemen,

He had 3 rifles, a Mannlicher .375, .303 Lee Enfield and a .450 Martini Express.

I don't they had scopes in those days!

400 yards and no clean kill??

He should have used a matchking!

Ski+3

I wonder how many others paid a price because of this fools action. The lion could have exacted such a price for a long time.

Chances are good that he over-stated the range when writing about the shot. I doubt he was any better at range estimation than most people.

While we may bristle at the idea of leaving wounded DG unfollowed until morning, this was 1922 (when laws and ethics were different), he was hunting on his own, and decided to follow the advice of his trackers.

Still, he followed up a wounded lion alone under circumstances few of us would consider ideal.

I wonder if he ever hunted lions again...

George

George S was that buff on your photo taken with your 460? What bullet with how much powder did you use and was it an one shot kill?

Gentlemen, we can all learn by others mistakes.

Do not shoot if you are uncertain of a kill shot.

When you do a follow up on a dangerous beast have
a DOUBLE RIFLE. [And a big revolver if possible]

As to waiting till the next day for the follow up.... That must have been pretty common back in those days as I have read where that has occured in other books. The author's act like it was a common OK thing to do. At least he went back, I bet a lot of times wounded game was not even followed up back in those days.

Saeed: My kind of story. Do you have more of it?

I gather the guy lived...

s

Perhaps it was evening..If it got dark on the spoor, I would wait until the next day to finish the job, I don't ever intend to spoor a "poorly wounded" Lion in the dark with a flash light unless for some unforseen reason I have to..I would and have followed up a couple that we were pretty sure didn't get far. You must remember if he dies then the Hyenas will probably tear him up pretty bad...This is where good judgment comes in pretty handy and fools get et.

I think some may be missing the point of the story.

I doupt there is a hunter amoung us that has never used less than perfect judgement at least on one animal in their lives.

I did once years ago on a bowhunt for boar, which climaxed in a knife fight in very heavy cover with the aide of a totally FEARLESS little cur.

I can relate to much of this hunters feelings. Of course on a much less grand scale. Yes,he made classic mistakes that are easy to point out 90 years latter from the comfort of our computer chairs. Mistakes acknowledged, he did stand his ground and tried to finish his own business. I believe the true mark of a man's character is not hos sucess but, how he deals with his failures.

Thanks for and interesting story.

I think a 400 yard shot at a lion in any age is a crime and bad sportsmanship.

Nitro,

Calm down! Like someone said, one wonders if it was really 400 yards. In any sort of brush or bush, it would be a wonder to be able to see a lion that far. Even Corbett, who claimed he could shoot tigers at 200 yards, usually wound up wounding them.

Hey, at least this guy didn't ride into the bush in the back of the Cruiser as MS and others do!

A good lesson in lion hunting.

The 400 yds is unethical and when you wound a lion you should be prepared for facing a wounded lion . practice laido every day and don,t forget your katana or wakizashi as back up!!! a good spear would also be useful
danny

No range finder open sites no dought. I just got done looking out over a 440 yard open feild. Making a shot like that with open sites.
I have a feeling it was a lot closer as well as he tells how the lion acted. I don't think you could see the actions that well at 400 yards.
I do know where a lot of my rifles shoot at 400 yards. I don't think I would take the shot at a moving lion.
You have to remember Corbett was hunting know maneaters. He knew even if he wounded them he could track them and finsh them off. He wasn't hunting for sport.

Try not interjecting your own feelings and thoughts about this hunters' actions but reflect on his writing and memories of the event. His focus on the actions of his "Army" and of the trackers. He greatly describes the country we all long for and the emotions we want to feel.
Can you imagine for yourselves the night he spent at camp in anticipation of the morning trek into the bush. Would the sounds of the breathing Lion have been like a winded pony or more like the thunder of a storm which has caught you in the open glade of your favorite hunting field? I couldn't even imagine watching the actions of that lion tearing into his hand and arm and then his chest knowing that at any second the next move would be to his neck or head.
How many years later was this written from the day of his ill-fated leap into our history. Was he prone to exaggerate a bit on his shooting prowess and how brave a man was he to pen his mis-deed for all to judge him.
Certainly makes me want to read more. I too enjoy his style when read without judgement.
Frank

Frank - Good coments, I agree completely. Getting too caught up moral judgement, some will miss the point of the story.

He never really says he took a 400yrd. shot. He wrote, "The lions were now crossing a bit of open country ahead at possibly 400 yards distance from me,".

This a story, not a police report.

This a story, not a police report.[/qb][/QUOTE]

Good one.

[ 06-01-2003, 22:52: Message edited by: Will ]

A police report is more accurate then a story???

Reviving this post from the dead, I fear most of our hunting predecessors would not pass current modern judgement.

Pondoro shooting through game to hit another, bell using a small bore, Baker bouncing lead ball across water at 1/4 mile to hit buffalo,
lesser known guys like balisovitch(sp?) surrounding a herd of elephant with 20 guys and blasting away util 41 elephant and 5 of his native hunters were shot dead.

Not too mention beating the 'coons' if they didn't work hard enough etc.

However, taking a 400 yard shot..oh the horror

The only difference is this idiot didn't get away with it.

Karl

[ 06-12-2003, 17:58: Message edited by: Karl ]

Mickey

Show me the African country where I can hunt self-guided and I will be at it, sooner than later.

Unfortunately I think those days are almost totally gone.

Morality changes and develops like everything else. Roosevelt wrote of very similar hunting methods during this period. He actually describes taking "ranging" shots at these kind of distances on dangerous game with a 30-06.

There is a constant stream of posts on these boards refering to baboon hunting (or attempted extinction, depending on your outlook). People in earlier times held the same opinion of lions; they were hunted as vermin and bountied. I can envision a future when people read the archived messages from this board and are shocked at the attitude hunters took with one of the futures noble game animals, the baboon. You never know what the future holds. I think we should live with our moral judgements and let the past live with theirs. I found the story fascinating.

I suspect the lion's morality has stayed the same.

It certainly seems like this lion was intent on inflicting pain and suffering, and not intending to kill quickly...

s

Art S

Regarding your Baboon comments a clever PH once told me when I commented that the Baboons in his area were so tame compared to another area.

"Well we don't hunt or shoot them as the other game animals will watch baboons and if the baboons are nervous or fleeing so will all the other game."

ie all this baboon shooting just means everytime they see a human they shriek a warning and run, scaring away the other game as well

Made sense to me.

Saeed
What is the title of the book and the authors name? A Lion is, after all, a LION! Nothing in his league accept maybe an Ole Dagga boy! Maybe!
Vince

In the time the writer wrote the story, lions were treated as we treat coyotes today. Varmints to be shot on sight with little respect for sportsmanship.

I thought the writer had a very readable style. He neither made himself out to be a hero or an idiot. He presented the story as a factual account and let the reader enjoy the moment without his interference with bravado or excuses.

I'd like to read more of his accounts of lion hunting!

His style reminds me of Corbett, who is my favorite.

What he did took guts and the fact that he remained lucid enough during his mauling to recount it bite by bite indicates that something clanked while this ole boy walked the bush....

Bravo I say!!!

$bob$

quote:

Mickey1: "We sit here, safe and warm, critically judging others from a previous time while reading about it on a computer screen. How hypocritical is that?"

His conduct, by today's standards, was unethical. That is a fact. It is not intended to be a criticism of the man in question or the standards of his time. By the same token, his actions in following up the lion, albeit a day later, were brave and appropriate by the standards of any day.

As for hypocrisy, none of us deserves to be judged, unless and until warranted, by the actions of the lowest and most despicable among us.

quote:

ArtS: "Morality changes and develops like everything else. Roosevelt wrote of very similar hunting methods during this period. He actually describes taking "ranging" shots at these kind of distances on dangerous game with a 30-06."

This is quite right. Was Theodore Roosevelt an unethical coward? Here is a representative quote from African Game Trails--An Account of the African Wanderings of an American Hunter-Naturalist, by Theodore Roosevelt (Scribners, New York, 1910), that also happens to concern lion hunting:

"[A] patch of tall, thick brush stood on the hither side of the bank--that is, on our side of the watercourse. We rode up to it and shouted loudly. The response was immediate, in the shape of loud gruntings, and crashings through the thick brush. We were off our horses in an instant, I throwing the reins over the head of mine; and without delay the good old fellow began placidly grazing, quite unmoved by the ominous sounds immediately in front.

"I sprang to one side; and for a second or two we waited, uncertain whether we should see the lions charging out ten yards distant or running away. Fortunately, they adopted the latter course. Right in front of me, thirty yards off, there appeared, from behind the bushes which had first screened him from my eyes, the tawny, galloping form of a big maneless lion. Crack! the Winchester [an 1895 in .405 W.C.F.] spoke; and as the soft-nosed bullet ploughed forward through his flank the lion swerved so that I missed him with the second shot; but my third bullet went through the spine and forward into his chest. Down he came, sixty yards off, his hind quarters dragging, his head up, his ears back, his jaws open and lips drawn up in a prodigious snarl, as he endeavored to turn to face us. His back was broken; but of this we could not at the moment be sure, and if it had merely been grazed, he might have recovered, and then, even though dying, his charge might have done mischief. So Kermit [Roosevelt's son], Sir Alfred [Pease, Roosevelt's host], and I fired almost together, into his chest. His head sank, and he died.

"This lion had come out on the left of the bushes; the other, to the right of them, had not been hit, and we saw him galloping off across the plain, SIX OR EIGHT HUNDRED YARDS AWAY [emphasis added]. A COUPLE MORE SHOTS MISSED [emphasis added], and we mounted our horses to try to ride him down [shades of hunting from vehicles!]. The plain sloped gently upward for three-quarters of a mile to a low crest or divide, and long before we got near him he disappeared over this. Sir Alfred and Kermit were tearing along in front and to the right, with Miss Pease [Sir Alfred's daughter] close behind; while Tranquillity [Roosevelt's sorrel horse] carried me, as fast as he could, on the left, with Medlicott [a fellow-guest of Sir Alfred's] near me. On topping the rise Sir Alfred and Kermit missed the lion [at what range, Roosevelt does not say], which had swung to the left, and they raced ahead too far to the right. Medlicott and I, however, saw the lion, loping along close behind some kongoni [Swahili for hartebeest]; and this enabled me to get up to him as quickly as the lighter men on the faster horses. The going was now slightly downhill, and the sorrel took me along very well, while Medlicott, whose horse was slow, bore to the right and joined the other two men. We gained rapidly, and, finding out this, the lion suddenly halted and came to bay in a slight hollow, where the grass was rather long. The plain seemed flat, and we could see the lion well from horseback; but, especially when he lay down, it was most difficult to make him out on foot, and impossible to do so when kneeling.

"We were about ONE HUNDRED FIFTY YARDS [emphasis added] from the lion, Sir Alfred, Kermit, Medlicott, and Miss Pease off to one side, and slightly above him on the slope, while I was on the level, about equidistant from him and them. KERMIT AND I TRIED SHOOTING FROM THE HORSES; BUT AT SUCH A DISTANCE THIS WAS NOT EFFECTIVE [emphasis added]. Then Kermit got off, but his horse would not let him shoot; and when I got off I could not make out the animal through the grass with sufficient distinctness to enable me to take aim. Old Ben the dog had arrived, and, barking loudly, was strolling about near the lion, which paid him not the slightest attention. At this moment, my old black sais (i.e., horse wrangler] Simba, came running up to me and took hold of the bridle; he had seen the chase from the line of march and had cut across to join me. There was no other sais or gun-bearer anywhere near, and his action was plucky, for he was the only man afoot, with the lion at bay. Lady Pease [Sir Alfred's wife] had also ridden up and was an interested spectator only some fifty yards behind me.

"Now, an elderly man with a varied past which includes rheumatism does not vault lightly into the saddle; as his sons, for instance, can; and I had already made up my mind that in the event of the lion's charging it would be wise for me to trust to straight powder rather than to try to scramble into the saddle and get under way in time. The arrival of my two companions settled matters. I was not sure of the speed of Lady Pease's horse; and Simba was on foot and it was of course out of the question for me to leave him. So I said, 'Good, Simba, now we'll see this thing through,' and gentle-mannered Simba smiled a shy appreciation of my tone, though he could not understand the words. I was still unable to see the lion when I knelt, but he was now standing up, looking first at one group of horses and then at the other, his tail lashing to and fro, his head held low, and his lips dropped over his mouth in peculiar fashion, while his harsh and savage growling rolled thunderously over the plain. Seeing Simba and me on foot, he turned toward us, his tail lashing quicker and quicker. Resting my elbow on Simba's bent shoulder, I took steady aim and pressed the trigger [N.B.--at 150 yards, with open sights]; the bullet went in between the neck and shoulder, and the lion fell over on his side, one foreleg in the air. He recovered in a moment and stood up, evidently very sick, and once more faced me, growling hoarsely. I think he was on the eve of charging. I fired again at once, and this bullet broke his back just behind the shoulders; and with the next I killed him outright, after we had gathered around him."

Brave and valiant action when it counted, but some other elements, notably the long range shooting, stupid and unethical by today's standards.

But it is an anachronism to judge our forebears by our modern standards. What was common once--slavery, execution by disembowelment, debtor's prison, and yes, even shooting at dangerous game animals at extended range--is abhorrent or unethical now. God knows what activities we regularly undertake nowadays that our descendants will view as unethical when we are long dead. I hope big game hunting is not one of them.

Lex

I wonder if, when he wrote the book, Wienholt cared about the ethical standards of 2003?

Can you imagine putting to words in memoir or ledger the accounts of such men and such action as these. The command of language and memory of such vivid recollection of events and deeds. Could you not feel the excitement and see the shy reclusive fellow as he nodded in acknowlegment without understanding the words of his noble hunter dismounted and on equal ground to slay the beast.
Great use of language. I really have to read it all again because now I know I will understand it more deeply than I did when read before.
Frank

He should have used a 45-70.

Are lions dangerous?