one?’
‘How about the mother and the little one that is snuggling up against her?’
‘But there are two babies.’
‘Yes, but haven’t you ever heard about aunties? It’s lion custom for the aunties to take care of the youngster when the mother is away. Don’t worry about the little fellow. Auntie Gir will look after him.’
‘See - they’re all going to sleep.’
‘Yes, this is their time for sleep. But that cub is wide awake. Look - he’s coming this way. If you can grab him, we’ll have his mother.’
‘How come?’
The mother lion will follow her baby. I’ll noose the mother with this lasso just to be sure she won’t run away. But it’s really the cub, not the lasso, that is going to capture our Gir lion.’
The lioness was standing now, looking after her wandering cub. She walked slowly away from the sleeping family.
Hal flung the lasso. It noosed the lioness, but she was too much concerned for her young one to notice.
Roger expected her to roar when he picked up the cub. But Gir lions seldom roar. They have learned from sad experience that a roar tells the man with a gun just where he can find the lion. The Gir lion’s only safety lies in silence.
‘Carry the cub to the truck,’ Hal said, ‘Go very slowly. If you get the lioness running she may jerk the rope out of my hands.’
He wrapped the end of the rope round a tree to prevent the animal from breaking into a run. Then to the next tree -and the next. So, tree by tree, they approached the truck.
Coming out on the road where the truck stood, Roger put the cub in the cage that had been brought along for the animal they expected to get.
The lioness leaped lightly into the truck and entered the cage. She made a soothing, snuffling sound over her cub, trying to comfort it, and to tell it that no matter what happened, it would not lose its mother.
Roger closed the cage door. ‘I have some biscuits in my pocket,’ he said. ‘Shall I drop some of them into the cage?’
‘No. The cub is too young for solid food. Its mother is giving it some milk. A couple of months from now we can start giving it meat.’
Several times before this Hal had used this method of getting a great beast into a cage. It had all been done without worrying either animal in the least. Some ‘take-‘emalive’ men use more brutal methods. They force the animal along by beating it, prodding it with sharp sticks, shouting at the top of their lungs to terrify it, and shooting into the air to paralyse the animal with fear.
But in Hal’s way of doing it, there was no beating, no prodding, nothing whatever to cause fear. There was only love - the mother cat’s love had made her follow her young
They drove home. On the way, Roger had some questions to ask.
This lion doesn’t look a bit like the ones we saw in Africa. Why is that?’
‘Lions differ according to the country they are in. Much of East Africa is six thousand feet above sea level. So it is quite cold all the year round. The Gir Forest is only about a hundred feet above sea level. It is very hot here most of the year. The African lions have heavy coats to keep out the cold. Lions in the hot country wear light coats. Nature is pretty clever. She tries to make animals comfortable no matter where they live.’
They’re different all over,’ Roger said. These lions are fatter. Their heads are longer. Their legs look different, and their tails.’
They have an easier life than the African lions.’
‘Do the lions and tigers fight each other?’
‘No, they get along beautifully together. They seem to regard each other as cousins, not enemies. They really are cousins, you know. Their hides are quite different, but if you undress the tiger and the lion by removing their hides, you find that their bodies are exactly alike - the same organs, exactly the same bone structure. Even an expert can’t tell which is the tiger and which is the lion. Only their skins are different - one plain, and the other
‘How about the mother and the little one that is snuggling up against her?’
‘But there are two babies.’
‘Yes, but haven’t you ever heard about aunties? It’s lion custom for the aunties to take care of the youngster when the mother is away. Don’t worry about the little fellow. Auntie Gir will look after him.’
‘See - they’re all going to sleep.’
‘Yes, this is their time for sleep. But that cub is wide awake. Look - he’s coming this way. If you can grab him, we’ll have his mother.’
‘How come?’
The mother lion will follow her baby. I’ll noose the mother with this lasso just to be sure she won’t run away. But it’s really the cub, not the lasso, that is going to capture our Gir lion.’
The lioness was standing now, looking after her wandering cub. She walked slowly away from the sleeping family.
Hal flung the lasso. It noosed the lioness, but she was too much concerned for her young one to notice.
Roger expected her to roar when he picked up the cub. But Gir lions seldom roar. They have learned from sad experience that a roar tells the man with a gun just where he can find the lion. The Gir lion’s only safety lies in silence.
‘Carry the cub to the truck,’ Hal said, ‘Go very slowly. If you get the lioness running she may jerk the rope out of my hands.’
He wrapped the end of the rope round a tree to prevent the animal from breaking into a run. Then to the next tree -and the next. So, tree by tree, they approached the truck.
Coming out on the road where the truck stood, Roger put the cub in the cage that had been brought along for the animal they expected to get.
The lioness leaped lightly into the truck and entered the cage. She made a soothing, snuffling sound over her cub, trying to comfort it, and to tell it that no matter what happened, it would not lose its mother.
Roger closed the cage door. ‘I have some biscuits in my pocket,’ he said. ‘Shall I drop some of them into the cage?’
‘No. The cub is too young for solid food. Its mother is giving it some milk. A couple of months from now we can start giving it meat.’
Several times before this Hal had used this method of getting a great beast into a cage. It had all been done without worrying either animal in the least. Some ‘take-‘emalive’ men use more brutal methods. They force the animal along by beating it, prodding it with sharp sticks, shouting at the top of their lungs to terrify it, and shooting into the air to paralyse the animal with fear.
But in Hal’s way of doing it, there was no beating, no prodding, nothing whatever to cause fear. There was only love - the mother cat’s love had made her follow her young
They drove home. On the way, Roger had some questions to ask.
This lion doesn’t look a bit like the ones we saw in Africa. Why is that?’
‘Lions differ according to the country they are in. Much of East Africa is six thousand feet above sea level. So it is quite cold all the year round. The Gir Forest is only about a hundred feet above sea level. It is very hot here most of the year. The African lions have heavy coats to keep out the cold. Lions in the hot country wear light coats. Nature is pretty clever. She tries to make animals comfortable no matter where they live.’
They’re different all over,’ Roger said. These lions are fatter. Their heads are longer. Their legs look different, and their tails.’
They have an easier life than the African lions.’
‘Do the lions and tigers fight each other?’
‘No, they get along beautifully together. They seem to regard each other as cousins, not enemies. They really are cousins, you know. Their hides are quite different, but if you undress the tiger and the lion by removing their hides, you find that their bodies are exactly alike - the same organs, exactly the same bone structure. Even an expert can’t tell which is the tiger and which is the lion. Only their skins are different - one plain, and the other
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