The Lion’s den is made by scraping away the surface of the earth in some secluded spot, where the beast remains as long as game is plentiful, and there is no one to disturb him. When he has used up one hunting-ground, he departs for “fresh woods and pastures new.” He hunts entirely by night, at which time it is not safe for any one, in a Lion neighbourhood, to stir out without firearms, for the Lion, with the laziness which distinguishes him, will always prefer man-meat caught at once, to Antelope or Zebra-meat, for which he will have the trouble of looking. In the daytime he spends most of the time in sleeping off his bloody carouse, and, until nightfall, is always very unwilling to be disturbed, and unless molested hardly at all dangerous, except in the breeding season. This seems curious, as, from the ferocity of the animal when he is attacked, or when he is catering for himself by night, it savours of the marvellous to talk of such a savage being harmless under any circumstances. But there can be no doubt about the fact; he seems to object to expose his actions not only to the light of day, but also to that of the moon. For this, we have the testimony of a man whose loss Englishmen have not yet ceased to deplore; a man who, by universal consent, is _facile princeps_ in the ranks of African explorers:-- “By day there is not, as a rule, the smallest danger of Lions which are not molested attacking man, nor even on a clear moonlight night, except they possess a breeding στοργή (natural affection). This makes them brave almost any danger. And, if a man happens to cross to the windward of them, both Lion and Lioness will rush at him, in the manner of a bitch with whelps. This does not often happen, as I only became aware of two or three instances of it. In one case a man, passing when the wind blew from him to the animals, was bitten before he could climb a tree. And, occasionally, a man on horseback has been caught by the leg under the same circumstances. So general, however, is the sense of security, on moonlight nights, that we seldom tied up our Oxen, but let them lie loose by the wagons. While, on a dark, rainy night, if a Lion is in the neighbourhood, he is almost sure to venture to kill an Ox.”[13] The following passage shows how unusual it is for a Lion to do any damage by day; so uncommon that the natives consider a supernatural cause necessary to account for so remarkable an occurrence:-- “The Bakàtla of the village Mabatsa were much troubled by Lions, which leaped into the cattle-pens by night, and destroyed their Cows. They even attacked the herds in open day. This was so unusual an occurrence that the people believed that they were bewitched: ‘given,’ as they said, ‘into the power of the Lions by a neighbouring tribe.’ They went once to attack the animals, but, being rather a cowardly people compared to Bechuanas in general, on such occasions, they returned without killing any.”