"At last, to my great satisfaction, I struck upon the river and kept along its bank until I came to a large clump of trees; here we unsaddled our horses, picked out a comparatively dry spot under a big tree, which stood just at the edge of the river, wrapped ourselves in our rugs, and prepared to pass the night as comfortably as we could. The river was high, and my only fear was that it might overflow its banks and set us afloat before morning. However, we had not been there long before the rain ceased, the sky cleared, and the stars came out again; but as the horses had done a long day's work on the previous day, I determined to remain where I was until morning. Having been in the saddle all the previous night, I slept heavily. The wind was still blowing strongly, and I suppose that the noise in the trees, and the lapping of the water by the bank close by, prevented my hearing the stamping of the horses, which, under ordinary circumstances, would certainly have warned me of the approaching danger. Suddenly I awoke with a terrific uproar. I sprang to my feet, but was instantly knocked down, and a beast, I knew to be a lion, seized me by the left shoulder. My revolver was, as always, in my belt; I drew it out, and fired into the brute's eye; his jaw relaxed, and I knew the shot was fatal. A terrible din was going on all round; there was light enough for me to see that both the horses had been pulled to the ground; two lions were rending the body of my servant, and others were approaching with loud roars. I sprang to my feet and climbed up into the tree, just as two more lions arrived upon the spot. My servant had not uttered a cry, and was, I have no doubt, struck dead at once. The horses ceased to struggle by the time I gained my tree. At least twenty lions gathered round, and growled and quarrelled over the carcases of the horses. When they had finished these, they walked round and round the tree, roaring horridly; some of them reared themselves against the trunk, as if they would try to climb it, but the lion is not a tree-climber, and I had not much fear that they would make the attempt. I hoped that in the morning they would move off; but they had clearly no intention of doing so, for, as it became daylight, they retired a short distance and then either lay down or sat upon their haunches in a semicircle fifty yards distant, watching me.