Some hunters near the Cape of Good Hope went in search of a lion which had carried off a number of cattle from the neighborhood.

They discovered him in a thicket or jungle, and at once proceeded to pepper him with slugs and bullets. Regardless of the shower of balls the lion bounded forward, and in an instant turned the chase upon them. All took to their horses or their heels. One huge fellow, not nimble enough to mount his horse in time, was left in the rear, and was speedily run down by the rampant lion. He had the prudence to fling himself flat on the ground and lie quiet as a log. The lion sniffed at him, scratched him with his paw, and then quietly sat down upon his body. His routed companions, collecting in a band, took courage at length to face about; and, seeing the lion on the prostrate body of the hunter, they imagined that their comrade was killed, and began to concert measures for avenging him. After a short pause, however, the lion resigned of his own accord his seat of triumph, relieved his panting capture, and retreated towards the mountains. The party, on coming up, found their friend shaking his ears, unharmed, except what he had suffered from a very ungentlemanly piece of conduct on the part of the lion.