Lion Called Christian (15 page)

Like some people who love animals, she did not see the irony in her often disastrous human relationships or her reputation for harshness with her African staff. She was murdered by one of them in 1980 after a dispute about pay.

On our way through Nairobi, we took a sample of Christian's blood to the vets, Tony and Sue Harthoorn. George had correctly diagnosed tick fever, and the vets told us that there was a slight chance that it would recur, but George had the correct vaccine to combat it. Boy and Katania were also susceptible to this disease just by moving from one part of Kenya to another.

On the long drive back we lost our way in the darkness and were alarmed when our Land Rover was flagged down by what looked like almost-naked, spear-holding warriors. We thought we should stop, but quickly wound up the windows. We were embarrassed to see they were friendly young African children with sticks, merely wanting cigarettes. In English, they directed us to Kora and "Kampi ya Simba, where the white man keeps lions!"

We arrived at George's camp late that night. He was concerned about Christian, who for the first time had not returned with Boy and Katania in the evening. George had looked for him and called him, but he had not appeared.

Within several minutes of our arrival, however, Christian came running toward the camp. We had been away for a fortnight and, wildly excited, he leapt all over us. George believed he must have had a premonition that we were returning. He thinks lions have a sixth sense that humans have either lost or never had. On visits to his other lions after their release in the wild, he has often arrived in a deserted camp only to be mysteriously joined by them a few minutes later.

Christian had obviously missed us and made continuous happy grunts while leaping on us and licking our faces. When we sat down, he would clamber onto one of our laps, then stretch to have at least part of his body, his front paws, on the other lap. He excitedly jumped on the table, creating chaos and making eating impossible, and we were not allowed to sleep.

We were delighted to see he looked so well and that George was growing fond of him and found him as amusing as we did. One night George had unwisely made Christian a snack of powdered milk, a great favorite from his English days. And now, every night, Christian followed him around, tapping his ankles and butting him with his head, until he relented and gave him his powdered milk.

Disappointingly, Boy had still not totally accepted Christian, although there had been an improvement. George thought Christian sometimes seemed depressed by his unrequited adoration of Boy. He and Katania were now very friendly, and George thought that now it might be Boy's jealousy that was prolonging the ongoing tension.

He told us of an incident that had happened the day we left Kora. He had followed the lions on their morning walk, and he had seen an enormous rhinoceros quite close to the camp. Boy and Katania tactfully moved well away from it. But to George's alarm, Christian began to walk toward the rhinoceros. He stalked it perfectly and came to within a few yards, when the rhinoceros suddenly turned and saw him, and snorting with rage at Christian's impudence, charged. Christian sprang eight feet in the air, over a bush, and fled. George was very amused, but hoped Christian had learned his lesson.

Already Boy had spent several nights away in an attempt to establish a territory. He chose the opposite direction from a wild lion heard roaring on several occasions. However, it was impossible for a single fully grown lion to establish a territory alone, and George told us he planned to bring two other lions up to the camp. He had been offered two lionesses of about Christian's age, which had been captured after they had frequently attacked domestic cattle, and without George's intervention, they would have been killed.

This time we spent only a few days with George and Christian. Each morning we walked with the lions until they chose a tree or bush in order to shelter from the sun. Christian always accompanied Boy and Katania, but Boy suffered his presence rather than encouraged it. In the afternoons we walked with George to find them, fascinated by the way he could identify and follow their spoor (paw marks), and by his deep knowledge of wildlife and bushcraft. The lions returned in the evenings to be fed, and George sometimes had to drive many miles to a hunting block to shoot waterbuck or other game for them to eat. He hoped they would soon be self-sufficient.

We loved talking to George and had long conversations with him, not only about lions but also about Australia and our lives in London, and his life. George had been born in 1906 in India, where his father was in the British Army, and he was educated in England. He had spent most of his life as a game warden with the Department of Wildlife in Kenya. Although he led an isolated life, George kept in touch with events in the outside world. He had returned to England only once since leaving school, and he was interested to hear how London had changed now so many years later. He was kept informed by visitors, friends, and admirers around the world, as well as by
Playboy
magazine, which he read "for the interviews."

He talked of his early days as a hunter and when he first realized the threat of extinction that faced so many animals, he had become increasingly concerned for their conservation. Since Elsa's death he had devoted his life to rehabilitating lions.

George loved lions passionately, and believed it was possible to attain an understanding and communication with them that was less likely, if not impossible, with other animals. He admired their dignity and immense capacity for love and trust, and he wanted to continue living at Kampaya Simba until the lions were no longer dependent on him.

He felt Boy was about to grant Christian the acceptance he longed for, and that the other lions, in addition to easing the situation, would complete the nucleus of a pride that would include Christian. He was confident that all the lions would be successfully rehabilitated.

Through a series of extraordinary coincidences we had returned Christian to Africa and to the world's most knowledgeable and sympathetic lion expert. Christian now had the freedom to take his chance in the wild, and we could not have imagined or dreamed of a better outcome and this tempered our sadness at leaving him. Life would initially be very empty without him, and tears were shed. We wondered if we would ever see him again, but Christian, after a journey of several generations and thousands of miles, had returned to where he belonged.

S
everal months after we left Kora and returned to London, we had news of Christian, Boy, and Katania in a letter from George, part of which follows:

I expect you have heard about the tragedy of poor little Katania. One evening last month the three lions pushed off towards the river after having a good feed of meat. They did not return the following morning, which was nothing unusual, as on several occasions they had been absent for two or three days, once even for five days. I went searching for them two days later but without success. In the early hours of the next day Christian appeared alone. This was a little worrying as usually he and Katania kept together, while Boy went off looking for girls. However, I thought Katania must surely be with Boy. Early next morning Boy arrived, alone.

Now there was real cause for alarm, and Christian seemed just as worried as I was. I started an intensive search on foot and by Land Rover. I took Christian walking with me, relying on his powers of scent for help. It was not until four days later that I found the spoor of the three lions on the bank of the river, about three miles below where you stayed by the Tana before moving up to my camp. It was plain to see that Christian and Katania had been playing, racing up and down along the bank. I crossed to the far bank but found Boy's tracks only. On the near side, there were only the tracks of Christian leaving the river. I think Katania must have tried to follow Boy into the water, but being so much lighter and smaller, was carried down by the current, and before she could make the bank, she was taken by a crocodile. Even at her age lions are very good swimmers and it is unlikely that she would have drowned. It is a sad loss which I feel keenly, as do Boy and Christian. The joy has gone out of them.

About a fortnight ago, Boy went off on another foray across the river and returned with a girlfriend. I could hear them around the camp for three days and nights. One night while Boy was busy with his lioness, I heard Christian growling near the edge of the bush in front of the camp. By the light of a torch, I saw him facing another wild lioness of about his own age.

Boy and Christian are now good friends. In fact, Boy often takes the initiative in the greeting ritual of mutual head rubbing. Christian has started to accompany Boy in his roaring! A trifle immature, but a darned good effort. His voice promises to be even deeper than Boy's. A few days ago, there is reason to think that the two met up with the lionesses again, who may have made a kill, as both returned looking well fed and not in the least hungry after three days.

I soon hope to collect the lionesses that you know about. From the description given to me, I would say they are about fourteen months old, which means that they should have already had experience of hunting with their mother. They should be a big asset, provided I can gain their trust and friendship.

George Adamson

January 12, 1971

Kampi ya Simba, Kora

Bill Travers flew out to Kenya shortly after we received this news from George and wrote to us on his return to England:

Dear John and Ace,

I arrived back from Africa at the week-end. I can imagine your concern over the past weeks and thirst for news of Christian, so before I go into details of how he is making out, let me tell you first of all that he is both alive and well. He does not seem to have had a day's sickness since the tick fever he had when you were both out there. And he is very much alive I can assure you--my paw-marked khaki trousers will bear witness to that. He is a good deal heavier too, well over 200 lbs I would say at a guess, though sometimes when he greeted me fondly it felt considerably more. I am quite sure we could never now lift and suspend him from the local butcher's scales as we once did in England to find out his exact weight for the flight to Kenya, even if he would still allow it. He is as high at the shoulder as any fully grown lion, even as tall as Boy who, as you know, is a big lion. But in spite of his size he is as affectionate as ever. He gives George long ceremonial greetings with his head, licks him with his sandpaper tongue the moment George puts a foot outside the wire fencing that runs round the camp, inside which Christian is now no longer allowed.

However, this affection does not seem to be hampering the progress of rehabilitation, but in a strange way gives George the control that he will continue to need during the months that it takes to establish the lions first as a family and then as guardians of their territory.

By the way, I noticed that his coat seems to have adjusted to the hotter climate and is thinner, much finer and smoother, which makes him look more streamlined, more mature and certainly emphasises his now fine athletic figure. He is really quite a magnificent lion, and it would be hard to find anything to criticise in his appearance, except perhaps his feet. They are still enormous. I can only think if he grows big enough to make them look normal he will be, without doubt, the biggest lion in Africa.

After you left Boy and Christian became the greatest of friends--in fact quite inseparable, and the little cub Katania, who as you saw adored them both, found herself as they flopped over each other, the protesting centre of a sandwich.

Unfortunately, this friendship, as you have already been told, was short-lived. I won't therefore dwell on the circumstances which led us to assume the death of Katania, except to say it was doubly tragic. Not only had Boy and Christian lost their little friend, we'd also lost the only female in George's pride.

However, there is good news too, to compensate. The two lionesses George has collected are about the right age for Christian--a few months younger than he is. Unlike Christian they are already quite wild, and though too young to kill must have learned from their parents how to hunt. They must also have some knowledge of the strict rules of lion society. I think Christian will benefit greatly from his association with them as the pavements of Chelsea and the soft country life at our home were hardly the best schooling for the life he is now starting to lead. The other good part of this news is that they are female. George, of course, is delighted as it is essential to have at least one female in the family or pride which we hope eventually will be able, with George's help, to establish itself in the Tana River area and enjoy freedom and a natural expression of life.

Well, I am sure there can hardly be a day that you do not talk or at least think about Christian, George and Boy. I can only tell you that the last picture I took with me, as I drove away from George's camp, was one of the three friends standing happily together for a final word outside the gate of their "home." Apat, a handshake, and they remained watching my Land Rover as it started bumping down the long trail back to Nairobi and civilisation. I looked back as often as I dared take my eyes off the road and saw Christian rub against George, who fondled his slight mane, then wander off to Boy, to greet, nudge and no doubt provoke him into starting some wonderful sprawling lion game.