Evening Star Newspaper, January 11, 1931, Page 86

- 16 THE SUNDAY STAR, WASHINGTON, D. C, JANUARY W, YOST. Lions, Tame and Wild, on the African Veld Thrills of Taking Motion Pictures With the King of Beasts in the Leading Role—A Desperate Moment When Pasha, the Killer, Broke From the Kraal—Maraud- ing Visitors at Night. EDITOR’S NOTE—This is the second of two articles by Wynant Dawis Hubbard, F. Z. S., who spent three years m Africa captur- ing wild anmimals for zoos and tak- ing motion pictures of them in their mative haunts. Mr. Hubbard vividly describes the perils and dif- ficulties involved in oblaining action scenes of the big cats. BY WYNANT DAVIS HUBBARD, F.Z.S. IONS are like babies. They love and sulk, play, growl and whimper just as infants do. When a lion is happy its tail thrashes and thumps. Its eyes light up and shine and deep within its throat it makes a growly, whim- pery, purry noise which diffuses pleasure and affection. On the veld at night I have hunted lions with an electric spotlight. It is then that they are kings, acknowledging precedence to the elephant and the rhinoceros. Caught in the beam of light, their coats turn greenish yellow and their eyes enlarge and con- tract, glowing a pale, luminous green. Enraged or hurt, the green kindles, flashes to red and then to green, again to red. Sparks seem to fly. Their teeth gleamed, showing white against the dripping red of the gums. Their ears flatten and their heads protrude, the crown coming into line with the back. Roars and chesty growls, snarls so vicious they curl the black-edged lips, rend the night. During three years of wanderings upon the veld I chanced, in Northern Rhodesia, into meetings with lions which gave me quickening nights of roar-cracked slumber. Seven lions in & semi-circle serenaded me one night for hours at & distance of some 50 yards. In the morning when I went out in the early mists to stalk them I erred grievously and nearly stcpped on one. The lion was nearly as frightened as I, but ‘¢ won the honors because it spat upon my face as it fled. my last trip to Africa I had seven lions. were bought lions and some were wild ones. I was to make a moving picture story fnvolving African animals, and lions were to be among the chief actors. Big Pasha was our sultan. Old age and the constant lack of privacy in circus life had told on his temper. In Johannesburg I purchased four other lions— & 'pair of females of uncertain age but friendly dispositions and & lion cub about 8 months old, which had been captured on the veld not long before. His tendency was to attack. You could not blame him. He had had a rough deal. And sustained hate and fearlessness provoke a cer- taiy admiration. ’I‘HE fifth member of our troop was Baby Pasha, a lioness cub of some 10 months. Where she originally came from I know not. She had been raised by hand with a puppy as a playmate by some loving person. Three feet long and 15 inches high, big forelegs. bowed as all strong legs should be, preity paws that never showed a claw and the bluest, most trustful eyes I ever saw, she became at once the darling of the camp. Her long-drawn meow begging for attention was irresistible. You just had to play with her a little and shake hands several times. Out for a walk on & collar and chain she was a bit rambunctious, but it was only lion play. Baby Pasha never bit or clawed. The remaining two lions of our seven we captured later when we needed them badly to complete some scenes. My intentions were to attempt to stage in daylight and under the most favorable con- ditions possible for photography scenes of animal life which would commonly occur at night, late in the afternoon, early in the morn- ing or in inaccessible places when and where phdtography would be exceptionally difficult or impossible. All our work was to be out of doors on the veld in as nearly natural con- ditions as possible. I selected Kabulamwanda as the most healthful, colorful spot in which to construct our main camp. Kabulamwanda is a large native village in the Mashakulumbwe country on the edge of the vast Kafue River Flats. A somewhat vague road a hundred miles lang runs from the village to the railroad at Big Pasha made his rail journey from Johan- nesburg in a large crate made of matched boarding. This was well enough for the car with its flat flooring where there as no danger T sl D hasl s I repaired them as well as possible before I started. Our trek to Kabulamwanda was memorable in many ways. We started in January shortly after the rains had commenced. The season turned out to be a freak one. Usually a lull the rains occurs about the middle of Jan- lasts a month. But we ran into the continuous rains of the season. At of our trek the weather cleared and and fine for so long that crops were in danger. Trekking is grueling work and a strain on tempers which it is hard to overcome. The first day was & nightmare. The oxen tried to bolt with the lions. Many of the drivers were new to their spans of oxen. They did not know their names and had difficulty in control- ling them and making them pull in unison. Wagons stuck hub deep and required 36 and 52 oxen to pull them out. Trek chains broke under the strains with cracks like pistol shots. Drivers ran amok, slashing at the oxen and their leader boys indiscriminately. We covered three miles the first day. But it was something to have gotten the wagons under way and the oxen broken in. At night the lions roared and called, the dogs barked derisive answers and the oxen stirred and pulled at their chains restlessly. Twenty-nine days to travel a hundred miles! Less than four miles a day, Wagons went to pieces under the strain and we rebuilt them. Bolts snapped and we made new ones, blowing up our forge in the middle of the veld. The rain came down in torrents. I was never dry. The lion cages were nearly waterproof, but we covered them with thick tarpaulins. Pasha clawed his one night, and pulling it into his cage tore the huge canvas to ribbons. The cubs had a 35-foot canoe over their crates. They were well protected. ATER covered the veld in every direction. Mosquitoes came out in clouds and at- tacked us day and night. In one spot we were forced to hitch four spans, 72 oxen to.a wagon. The water was so deep for 50 yards that the oxen were forced to swim. By inspanning so many, those in front could swim while those behind pulled snd then reversing pulled while their brothers swam. Throughout that month of work and sweat, unloading and reloading, cursing, driving, shiv- ering, wading, the lions were never unloaded. No matter how deep the mud and water, how churned or steep the trail, the lions had to go through. Entire villages turned out to watch us, to see the crazy white man carrying lions into the heart of the veld. We became a traveling circus and reports of our doings ‘were the gossip of the countryside. By report Big Pasha escaped at least once, and, according to rumor, I and my natives surrounded and captured him, three or four of us dying in the attempt. We finally . arrived at Kabulamwanda after s terrific bout with a stretch of seven miles, cov- ered the entire length with water a foot to four feet in depth. After a day or two of rest we picked out a camp site and hauled our precious lions and freight there, unloaded and began building. It was a large camp, nine whites, a permanent staff of 150 patives with many wives and chil- dren, a trading sfore, horses, dogs, cattle, donkeys, lions and, as time passed, trucks and wild animals. At one time between four and five hundred natives arrived in war paint and feathers for a great game drive and even greater dance. Every evening at about 7 Pasha commenced to roar. Soon after the first blasts had rum- bled away among the trees the lionesses would sound off. It always thrilled me to hear them. There is some quality in the roar of a lion that is more majestic, more awesome than the scream of an elephant, the whistle of a rhi- nocerous or the honk-honk of a bull hippo. To me it is not so terrifying as many other noises which I have heard at night on the veld. In civilization I have often longed and ached to hear it come booming and rolling out of the night. noises made in sound pictures give me a thrill. Sitting in the open air at dinner, the roaring of our lions sounding about us, we often heard wild lions answering. Sometimes they came close, but more often the roars and calls came from a mile or two away. Absent from the camp myself one night, I distinctly heard Big Pasha roaring seven miles distant. It was a quiet night with rain hanging close, when sound travels far. One evening when we were at dinner the houseboy left to guard the children rushed up to me with his eyes popping out of bis head. “I'nkos,” he blurted, “the lions have arrived!"” We leaped up. Frank rushed to his hut for a rifle and big electric searchlight. I grabbed my rifle and shooting vest, which hung on a pole behind me. Noble made for his hut. Together, with the ladies behind, we advanced on'the house, flashing the lamp ahéad of us. Natives assembled as if by magic and hppearead’ and trackers armiéd withy spears fell’ iy Detindg* us; ‘nid mw‘ my ‘capitdo, u-‘lhen.' Wi ninl b yawE. ey A by view W 9l npoe siongnV U tisty e 9k gl Bt 1 wpehve e Dawody < sortnd oss The zoo lions and even the degraded _ \ \ 7 \ o\ with his rifile. No lions. A brief search and close to the veranda we found the pug marks of four, one set five inches or more across. We flashed the lamp around again. Not a trace. Unless the lions had passed’ through the camp they must have gone downm into the open viei near the vegetable garden. We started At the edge of the vlei we flashed the lam; again. Eight glowing eyes shone up at once on the farther side. We pushed forward. Half way across we flashed the lamp again, for it is nerve-trying to walk toward lions’ in pitch blackness. There, not a hundred yards ahead of us, were four lions. A huge male climbed an anthill in the beam of light and turned to have a better ‘look at us. We hesitated: Lions loom awesome and huge at night. Should we go closer or take a shot from where we were? Snapping off the lamp we went closer. At 80 yards we stopped again. As the brilliant beam stabbed the night I raised my rifie. Longone, my gunbearer, was holding the lamp high abuve our heads so that we could see the sights on our rifles. ’I‘HE rays of light. Aslsnappedopnnynflato' reload I saw the lion flop backward off the anthill. I had hit him. v Frank- fired at a pair of eyes. showed nothing but a black veld silent. Not a growl, not a sound came to except the chattering in the camp behind. swung the lamp. Far away a pair of eyes glowed and then vanished as their owner turned its head. A rustling in the grass. We whirled. The rays of the lamp searched the open ex- panse of two-foot grass around us, Nothing to be seen. But that rushing sound. A wounded lion stalking us belly to the ground? Ours was not a favorable position. We backed away toward the rise near camp. Then suddenly something after all leaped to sprinted with the rest of us. We could not We faced about. The rustling, padding in the grass was right before us. Rifles came Longone trained the lamp. The lion if emerged would not have a ghost of a chance. The rustling was near the edge. The swayed and parted and out rushed an dog. I never felt more foolish in my life. the mornuing a careful search showed several bullet scars, blood. We had all missed. ashamed to say that I had plenty of thrills and dead animal is very though it be a big lion. full-grown lions even in a kraal or pen uncertain sort of business. Particularly it happens to be unfamiliar work. el 9] et 4 agde bl ude i The lion shot six feet up the stockade poles. In the corner thus formed were the enfrances to both and it was there that we decided to stage our scene. We constructed a “Wire- inclosed walk for Pasha’s prowl. The wire wis heavy stock fencing with a mesh of efght fiaches by four. We ran it up three ;12 f into ‘the air.” A lon is reputed to be able leap 14 feet. The upper width" ' strong. Many of the poles to which was lashed were limber and 2 of the kraal we blocked and for added security piled- not wish the blocking " obviously close cattle behind’them Pasha was to come as if following along an entrance. The scene was not a the first importance. But Pasha behaved as we hoped tha! scene should carry a thrill and lend to the whole film. Especially as this film was to be tinted to represent night. Everything was in readiness, The cameras were set up, their lenses pto}eeélncthrmuh the wire at different angles. Frank had his rifle beside him and Noble had his, as well as a still camera. Native hunters were posted at strategic points from which they could shoot in:the ‘svent anything went wrong. Pasha was a ‘mighty big lion. We knew that he was a killer, that "EE Ye§ TN Fre one of us to death, given half a chance. * The gunbearers and other natives climbed up on Pasha's ecage to open it. My skin prickled and tingled. (The moment before a lion is let out always thrills me.) to the natives fumbling about above him. anxiously over the staging. “Let him out.” . 'HE cameras clicked. natives to draw i iR 1 efalas s ) Vi edad ippwals e M uusT adl