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Updated: May 14, 2025
"Greeting from the great black one, the river-wolf he who met the wild man of the woods alone; he who crept in at the gate and slew the man-hunters; he the chief Muata. Greeting to the lion- killer, the cleaver of heads, the maker of plans, who came out of the mist in a shining boat. Greeting to the young lions who slew the tree-lion." "What is your word?"
Venning did not echo the complaint; he was too much occupied examining his prize, and taking exact measurements with a tape, which he entered in his log' book, together with a description of the markings. "It's a new species," he said, with the pride of an explorer who discovers a new mountain. "I will call it a tree-lion leo arboriensis Venningii that is, if you don't wish it called after you."
"So do I," said Compton, heartily, stirring the jackal with his foot. That sagacious animal rose slowly, stretched itself, one leg at a time, sniffed at the dead leopard, or tree-lion, whatever it was, and then curled itself up again. "Coo-ee coo-ee!" came out of the woods. "Coo-ee!" replied Compton, to the glad sound. "Coo-ee!" and he fired off his gun.
"That is your word," said the chief. "But it must be so." "Muata is right," said Mr. Hume. "We have only entered the fringe, and already we are different people. The lungs cry for pure air." "Yet there is a way," said Muata; and his eyes fell upon the tawny hide of the tree-lion. "How, chief?"
I heard but made no answer, who did not wish to waste my breath in bandying words with a great man, whose brain had been turned by bigotry and woman-hatred. A moment later the signal was given and we were at it. Kari leapt at me like the tree-lion of his own forests, but I avoided and parried. Thrice he leapt and thrice I did this; yes, even when I saw an opening and might have cut him down.
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