Legendary & romantic tales of Indian historyCaunter, Hobart
History
Legendary & romantic tales of Indian history
Caunter, Hobart
India -- History -- Fiction
“I like not this imprisonment,” said the prince, “and shall only
forbear forcing a retreat a short time longer. I am determined to try
my chance of escape while my strength remains unabated.”
Mahmood, however, prevailed upon his impatient and daring master to
await the issue of the second beast’s approach, before he rashly
determined upon an encounter, which it was now apprehended must
infallibly terminate in the death of each of them.
The lioness advanced eagerly, with her ears erected; and having
reached her cubs, she turned them over for a moment with her paw, and,
instantly perceiving they were dead, rushed towards a tree that grew
near, sprang upon the trunk, and, stripping off the bark, began to tear
it in pieces with the greatest violence. She now united her roars with
those of her consort; then fixing her eyes upon the den in which she
had deposited her young, bounded with foaming jaws towards the opening.
Infuriated by opposition, she darted to and fro before the cave,
springing at the trees, fixing her claws in the bark, and stripping
their trunks bare to the root. Again she assaulted the stone which
prevented entrance into her lair.
While she was exhibiting these paroxysms of exasperation, the male,
probably exhausted by its previous exertions, lay down beside the
cubs, placed its two fore-paws upon their bodies, and resting its head
upon the ground between them, kept up a low and continuous moan. The
lioness, at length fatigued with her unavailing efforts to retaliate
upon the destroyers of her young, walked deliberately up to the lion,
and after again turning over the bodies of her cubs, she seized one
of them in her mouth, and plunged with it into the thicket. The lion
took up the body of the other in the same way, and immediately followed
her. After a while the party in the cavern heard their roarings in the
distance, and began now to think seriously of making good their retreat.
“Our danger,” said the attendant, “is by no means at an end. Those
animals are never-failing in their instincts; they know that the
destroyers of their offspring are in this cave, and they will not quit
the neighbourhood until they have had their revenge. Their vigilance is
not to be evaded.”
“But,” said Mahmood, “did you not hear their roarings in the distance?”
“Nevertheless they will return immediately upon their steps. I have
seen much of the habits of these ferocious creatures. They have
disposed of the bodies of their dead cubs under some shrub or tuft of
grass, and covered them with dried leaves; they are now on the watch
for us; it is utterly impossible we should escape.”
“They shall feel the sharpness of this sword’s point, however, if they
do come upon us,” said the prince, rising, and stretching his cramped
limbs. “Our chance will be greater beneath the fair light of the sky,
with plenty of fighting room, than cooped up in this dismal den, where
we can’t distinguish a lion from a shadow.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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