In the month of November, some time before the now existing railway between the sea coast and the Transvaal was built, the sailing ship Sirius, bound from Madagascar to Liverpool, by way of Cape of Good Hope, came to anchor in Delegoa bay. Among her few passengers were myself and my chum, Alec McLeod, an adventurous Scottish highlander who for two years had shared my hunting experience in various parts of the East Indian archdipelago, notably in Borneo.
    To our great delight the captain of the Sirius announced his intention of remaining in the bay at least a fortnight, in order to take on such stores of gold dust, ivory, ostrich feathers and wool as could be advantageously purchased.
    Here, then, was presented a glorious chance of carrying out our long-cherished hope of a few days hunting in that "sportsman's paradise," the Transvaal, and as none of our shipmates would join us we two determined to go alone.
    It would not interest my readers to tell how, with half a dozen Zulus and an eight-span bullock wagon, we traversed at that warm, rainy season, the fifty miles or so intervening between the coast and our objective point, how we crossed a great spur of the Libornta mountains and, finally, after three days of toilsome trekking, reached the kraal of a sturdy Boer named Hans Wynkoop. Suffice it to say, on our arrival we had but ten bullocks left, the other six having been destroyed en route by that terror of south Africa cattle brooders, the deadly tsetso fly.
    Having brought letters of introduction from a Dutch trader at the bay, we were hospitably received by the old Boer and his two stalwart sons, Franz and Hendrick, who all spoke English fluently, though it did not take us long to perceive that their minds still rankled feelings of intense bitterness against Britishers generally--a bitterness engendered by the late war, in which, however, the Boers had time and again defeated her majesty's troops, winding up with the signal victory at Majuba Hill.
    In this bloody battle, so disastrous to the invaders, Wynkoop and his three sons had taken part, but the youngest of the three had been left dead upon the field, hence the smoldering resentment of the father and brothers, which we could not fail to mark.

    The first day of our arrival was spent by the whole five of us in hunting upon the open grass lands, where there abounded almost incredible numbers of springbok, gnu, buffalo, wild beast, eland, antelope and kindred game. We had not been out six hours when my heretofore wonder at the success of the Boers in battle against regular troops had ceased to exist. For of all the riflemen I had ever met in any country, these men were the most expert shots.
    Armed with the best long-range weapons that money could procure, never coming to close quarters nor engaging on equal terms with the varied ranks of disciplined soldiers, they had simply shot the latter down either from cover or from a distance too great to endanger themselves to the redcoats' fire.
    From long-continued and close observation I know that comparatively few privates in any civilized army are what I call good marksmen, whereas these ever-practicing veldt hunters thought nothing of bringing down a zebra, harte-beeste or even a small antelope at 600 yards, a feat which I have repeatedly seen them perform.
    I myself had been from early youth a good rifle shot, and my friend, McLeod, was a prize winner in that line, yet the best either of us could do was barely to hold our own in competition with these rude Boers, who seemed to entertain an utter contempt for the markmanship of trained soldiers.
    On the second evening of our stay some remarks to this effect made by Hendrick Wynkoop proved so offensive to my hot-tempered comrade, who had formerly served in the Ninety-Third Highlanders, that a violent quarrel occurred between the two men, and it required all our address to prevent them coming to blows. A truce was at last declared, however, and it was then decided that we should next day go lion hunting in a great kloo (wooden gorge) some miles distant, where several of these destructive brutes were supposed to lie during daylight hours.
    On getting up at dawn next morning our sanguinary resolves were by no means

weakened on finding that some time in the night a few cows had been killed and half devoured by lions within half a mile of the kraal, probably at the very moment we were planning our raid, for all the wild members of the cat family usually begin to hunt early in the evening.
    When the old man discovered this loss his usual stolid serenity vanished and he angrily explained: "Donner und blitzen! We must clean out that kloof today. There's a lot of lions in it somewhere, and now they've begun on the stock. They'll never quit while there's a hoof left."

    So, after breakfast we set out and on coming to the ravine divided our forces. Wynkoop and I designing to hunt upward from the entrance; Frank, the elder son, and McLeod to strike in a half mile or so above us, and Hendrick still surlily chafing to go along to the far end and work downward.
    Does the casual reader of these lines realize the reckless temerity of which we were guilty! Five men, on foot, divided into three groups, exploring a tangled wilderness of tropical growth in search of lions. I attached no particular importance to the matter at the time, but have often since thought that the wealth of the world could not tempt me to engage in such an enterprise again; for, notwithstanding the "magnanimity" erroneously ascribed to him, the African lion is of all beasts of prey the most sneaking, treacherous and cunning. He will sometimes lie for hours securely hidden and silent as death within thirty feet of a campfire, and then, in an unguarded moment, spring upon and carry off some luckless member of the party who has, perhaps, wandered slightly beyond the circle of light.
    While treading our several ways between the great trees and thorny brushwood of the kloof, we very well knew that at any instant one or more of us might be struck down by some ambushed brute, unseen and unheard until he should make his fatal spring; but the Boers were utterly fearless, and we visitors, being veteran hunters, were not given to nervousness.
    The bottom of the gorge was about twenty-five yards wide and its sides were overlooked by more or less precipitous mountain cliffs. Keeping ten yards apart and nearly as possible abreast of each other, Wynkoop and I pushed along through the matted underbrush, careless as to noise, but holding our rifles in position for instant use. For a quarter of a mile or so we did not see a living thing. All lesser animals seemed to have left this darksome fastness to the sole occupancy of the king of beasts, whose abiding presence was evidenced by numerous blind trails and frayed bushes.
    Shortly, however, we came to a small open space, where, at some former period, great masses of detached rock had been hurled down from the overhanging mountain.
    So far as we could see, all around this conglomerated heap was almost clear of bushes, and the ground presented a trampled appearance, while in front of it, on our side, lay a single huge bowlder behind which there seemed to be an opening.

    "Now look out," continued my comrade, speaking aloud. "Don't go nearer that big rock until we know more about it. Most likely it hides a lion's den. We must try to coax the brute out."
    If coaxing was the thing wanted the old Boer's gruff voice had answered every purpose, for he had barely spoken when, coming leisurely around, one at either end of the bowlder, and sleepily yawning, we saw a lion and lioness, the former being directly in front of Wynkoop and the latter opposite me.
    As we were still concealed by dense foliage the royal pair could not see who or what had thus disturbed their slumbers, and old Hans chucklingly said: "Wait a second. Let them come out clear, and then let each of us take his own."
    Apparently from mere curiosity, the magnificent creatures stole softly forward; but then, at once scenting up, both crouched low, assuming a terrific aspect, and, ominously growling, began to lash their sides with tail blows so powerful as to sound like flail strokes. For one, to him, fatal moment the lion lay with his muzzle on the ground, emitting a kind of choking, gasping roar, as if feeling too indignant for louder utterance, while his mate, naturally more curious than he, raised her head to get, if possible, a view of the invading pigmies.
    I may here very fitly observe that, no matter what his experience, no man--unless, indeed, it be a Transvaal Dutchman--can stand face to face with a full grown lion in its native wilds and remain wholly unmoved by the knowledge that should he miss his aim one blow of that mighty paw may the next instant reduce him to nothingness.
    I could, however, detect no quaver in my companion's voice, as at the opportune moment he quietly said: "Make sure work. Now!"
    Almost overlapping the last word came the simultaneous crack of our rifles, whereupon the lion sank down stone dead with scarcely a shiver, while the lioness whirled over on her back, clawed once wildly at the air and expired. The Boer, having a fair chance, had planted his heavy ball squarely between old Leo's eyes, but his consort's head being raised I was obliged to fire at her chest, the interior of which was torn to pieces by the explosive bullet of my express rifle.
    While reloading our weapons and admiring the grand proportions of our prizes we were joined by Franz Wynkoop. "Mr. McLeod," said he, "is a short distance behind. He couldn't force his way through the vines as quickly as I, but as the lions are killed it don't matter much."
    "I am not so sure," muttered his father, "that we've got the whole family. You shouldn't have left your guest, Franz, he may meet--Gott in himmel! he has met one of the young lions!" for at that moment a shot rang out not far away, immediately followed by startling cry for help.
    Like madmen we dashed around the pile of rocks and tore furiously onward through impeding mimosa, wait-a-bit-thorn and cactus bushes, while twice more McLeod's shout, "Help, now, help! My gun is foul!" drove even the phlegmatic Dutchman half crazy.
    Then save for the sound of our own trampling, came a portentous silence, though as yet we could see nothing. "Shout, men, shout!" yelled the elder Wynkoop, "You two fire your gun. I'll save my load. The lion is creeping up on our friend!" And mingling with our own and the rifle reports, the old hunter's mighty voice pealed forth in a sound that might well have scared a starving hyena from its prey. Yet, as it proved, even this didn't affright the bloodthirsty brute, then confronting McLeod and his empty gun. But for other aid we would have found only his mangled corpse, as at last we burst upon the scene, just in time to see my chum's whilom enemy, Hendrick, break from the farther thicket, rush to about six feet of a crouching lion and coolly send a bullet through its brain as it was in the very act of bounding upon its helpless opponent.
    In another second we had come up to find the lately embittered foes vigorously shaking hands and to see two three-quarters grown lions stretched before them.
    It seems that shortly after Franz had left him, McLeod came suddenly upon these brutes or they were hunting by daylight without leave of their more experienced parents came upon him. Though taken by a surprise, he promptly dropped one of the creatures and was about to fire at the other, when the cartridge jammed into the breech of his gun, the only repeating loader carried by any of us, and despite every effort, could not be extracted at the time. It was then he had called for help, as instead of running away, as an older beast would have done, the remaining lion seemed bent upon avenging his mate, and had been only momentarily deterred from attacking by his intended victim's shouts. Finally that these did not hurt him any, he had totally disregarded ours. But the first one had started stout young Hendrick to the rescue.
    "But good gracious, Alec! why didn't you shin up a tree on finding your rifle useless?" I asked.
    "Well, as sure as you live, I never I thought of it," naively replied my friend, while our greatly pleased host amiably said: "You Britishers would rather fight than run, that's certain, but even the bravest man might climb the first handy tree when he finds himself empty handed in front of a lion, especially one of this age, the most dangerous of any, for it don't know enough to fear a hunter."
    After taking off the four valuable pelts we trudged homeward, having done so good a day's work that I could not blame the jubilant Boers for indulging that night with some congratulatory neighbors in rather copious libations of Holland schnapps.

    As, in all his wanderings, McLeod had never chanced to kill an elephant, our third and last day's stay was devoted to a hunt for that highly prized game. Hendrick Wynkoop, now the fast friend of the fellow he had saved, took him in charge, while the other three of us accompanied by four Boers who had staid over night at the kraal, went off in another direction.
    It was on this day I saw such wonderful shooting done by these iron-nerved men, as before referred to. We killed a great many of the edible creatures hereinbefore named and best of all, secured a fine young giraffe, which Franz brought down by a single shot at a distance so great that I actually laughed at him for trying it, but we never found even the spoor of the special game for which we had on first coming out disregarded all else.
    Alec McLeod and his painstaking guide were more fortunate. Resisting every temptation, they never fired a shot until the middle of the afternoon, when they came across an old "rogue" elephant, the first intimation of whose presence was given by his headlong charge from an adjacent thicket, when though not forty yards distant he had been so silent and so effectually concealed as to escape even Hendrick's keen observation.
    The young Boer having previously instructed his new-found friend how to act in such a possible emergency, the two men stood stock still, side by side, while the stupendous beast with upraised trunk and enraged trumpetings bore furiously down on them like a fiend-impelled mountain of flesh and blood, until within ten yards. Then, as Hendrick had foretold, he lowered head and trunk for the final assault; but quick as lightning the two undismayed marksmen fired together at the hollow above his eyes, and as if indeed struck by a thunderbolt, the huge brute carried forward, though dead, by his own momentum, crashed to earth so close to their feet that they had to jump aside to avoid being crushed.
    The absolutely perfect tusks of this elephant weighed 127 pounds, worth at that time fully £75 sterling. Yet the generous Boers, from whom we parted with real regret and mutual expressions of good will, insisted upon presenting the grand trophies with two lion skins to us, in consequence of which, on rejoining the ship, we found ourselves the heroes of the hour, and the envy of our stay-on-board mates.

Source:

Unknown, "Three Days With the Veldt Hunters," The Atlanta Constitution, Atlanta, Sunday, 19 April, 1896, page 2, cols. 1-5.