Their condition was now exceedingly distressing. Not only the soldiers and sailors, but Scott and Anderson began to lag behind, being attacked by fever, the first effect of which in those countries is to deprive the sufferer of his energies. Having remained for some time by the wayside with his dying friend, he placed him, when his strength appeared for a moment to return, upon his horse, and pushed forward towards their proposed halting-place, leading the horse by the bridle. “We had not proceeded above a mile,” says Park, “before we heard on our left a noise very much like the barking of a large mastiff, but ending in a hiss like the fuff[1] of a cat. I thought it must be some large monkey; and was observing to Mr. Anderson, ‘What a bouncing fellow that must be,’ when we heard another bark nearer to us, and presently a third still nearer, accompanied with a growl. I now suspected some wild beast meant to attack us, but could not conjecture of what species it was likely to be. We had not proceeded a hundred yards farther, when, coming to an opening in the bushes, I was not a little surprised to see three lions coming towards us. They were not so red as the lion I had formerly seen in Bambarra, but of a dusky colour, like that of an ass. They were very large, and came bounding over the long grass, not one after another, but all abreast of each other. I was afraid, if I allowed them to come too near us, and my piece should miss fire, that we should all be devoured by them. I therefore let go the bridle, and walked forwards to meet them. As soon as they were within a long shot of me, I fired at the centre one. I do not think I hit him; but they all stopped, looked at each other, and then bounded away a few paces, when one of them stopped and looked back at me. I was too busy in loading my piece to observe their motions as they went away, and was very happy to see the last of them march slowly off among the bushes. We had not proceeded above half a mile farther when we heard another bark and growl close to us among the bushes. This was, doubtless, one of the lions before seen; and I was afraid they would follow us till dark, when they would have too many opportunities of springing on us unawares. We however heard no more of them.” [1] _Fuff_ is an expressive Scotch word, applicable in its original sense to the explosive noise which a cat makes in flying at a dog.