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Sun (Auckland), Volume IV, Issue 998, 14 June 1930, Page 17

y the oman ho hotographs ungle Lions at en aces m ' m |*— —-30 FEET Thrilling Experiences of Mrs. Mary Akeley, Who “Shoots” Wild Animals with a Camera Instead Deadly m m mm Hip .1 ; B 1 V ; |V : : .... : j Mrs. Mary 1 L. Jobe Akeley, F. R. C. S., Widow of Carl Akeley, Famous Explorer, Who Here Sets Forth Some of Her Experiences in Hunting Lions with a Camera, Carl and Mary Akeley in Their Work Tent in the Lukenia Hills. The Late Mr. Akeley Is Shown Modeling a Group of Klipspringer for the Field Model of a Group for “African Hall.” ■A m This Lioness, Crouched in tinAfrican Grass, Was Only Thirty Feet Away When It Was Photographed hy Mr., and Mrs. Akeley. These Lions Did Not Manifest the Slightest Sign cf Anger or Fear When Approached by the Akeley Exploration Party. They Were Merely Curious. Oh, Yes? 44 O HOOTING ” jungle lions with a camera, instead of a gun, teas for years the favorite sport of the late Carl Akeley, one of the most famous students of African hig game. In this article his tcidow and second wife, Mary L. Jobe Akeley, a Fellow of the Royal Geographical Society, tells of her thrilling experiences in helping her husband to photograph Jions only thirty feet away. Mrs. Akeley is now completing the African Hall exhibit, a collection of her Hate husband’s pictures of wild life, for the American Museum of Natural History in New York. After his sudden death in the heart of the Belgian Congo, Mary Akeley, imbued with his indomitable spirit, carried on through four lonely months in his place and saw the objectives of the expedition brought to a successful ending. Through her association with her sculptor-artist husband, her story, “Carl Akeley’s Africa," reveals in uncommonly vivid pictures the struggle of the once great game herds against the onrush of civilisation. By MARY L. JOBE AKELEY, F. R. G. S., Widow of Carl Akeley, Explorer. THE lion i 3 perhaps the most misunderstood of African, animals. Frequently, I have been asked the question, “Are all lions in Africa man-eating lions?” There is an increasing tendency to justify the wholesale slaughter of thi3 regal beast by claiming that his existence imperils human safety. The casual reader of the daily press might almost suppose that combat must be waged in Kenya to determine whether man or lion shall live. I caught my first glimpse of game when my husband and I passed through the Kenya Game Reserve, en route from Mobasa to Nairobi in British East Africa. While I reveled in the sight of these strange denizens of the wilderness, my husband, entering Africa for fifth time was depressed. The few animals we saw there seemed to him the last pitiful survivors of the primitive herds which he had seen in this great game country fifteen years before. A lion has no chance whatsoever against the hunter who builds for himself a shelter in the trees and who, after placing a zebra as a lure, waits the coming of the lion throughout the night. During the five weeks which I spent with my husband in the heart of the lion country, we. saw 146 lions. Not one of them showed the slightest inclination to be aggressive, unless wounded. I have enjoyed the most remarkable experiences anyone can have in discovering and watching peaceful, friendly lions in their native haunts. I personally believe it is rank injustice to hold the lion as an object to be exterminated. The lion is the king of beasts and should live. That the disappearance of game is due, in part, to ruthless slaughter is an undeniable fact. Even here in America we have our killer-hunters, whose sole ambition is to have an animal in front of their gun-sights as long as the light of day will permit shooting. Our camera hunts, which resulted in permanent records of the lion, served a far nobler purpose, and were infinitely more thrilling. We had journeyed into Tanganyika for the serious purpose of “playing” with the lions and of seeing and photographing one of the last remnants of the great game herds that still survive in fair, but diminishing, numbers in the few pockets in the hills, and in the unmolested stretches of the open plains. That we should ever see even a bit of the old Africa, as Carl Akeley had found it thirty yeai-3 ago, has grown to seem impossible. We had been hunting for three 'Mi watching our approach. We went nearer. They dropped down a little in the grass as we advanced, and then two others, a little farther on, sat up to watch us too. Right between the two groups a big, dark-colored lioness suddenly appeared. She was determined to get a close-up. She crept up the slope of the donga, through the tall grass, straight at us. When she reached the grass edge, where it abruptly joined the burned veldt, the big cat lifted her paws high, stepping into the open with the grace and assurance of a queen. As she came into the open, Carl seized his .475 and I had presence of mind enough to grab my camera and photograph her. Thrilling? It was the most thrilling sight I had ever beheld. The lioness slowly, but steadily, stalked us with lowered head, keeping a slender three-foot thorn bush, no bigger than a cane, between us. Then she left the thorn bush, stepping out quite boldly and with head held low, she sat down a little to one side and back of a tree. This survey was not satisfactory. So the lioness deliberatelymoved on and reached the tree, walked back of it to the other side and came directly toward us. Not once dRI she take her eyes off us and not once did she hesitate. “If she comes five steps nearer, I’ll have to shoot!” shouted my husband, who, with his gun aimed toward her, tooted the motor’s horn. The lioness paid no attention and came another precious step nearer. My husband next started the engine, but the lioness did not stop. Finally he and Bill, our tracker, shouted at the top of their lungs. The lioness stopped for twenty full seconds, gave us one long look and as slowly, deliberately and gracefully as she had come toward us she retraced her steps to the tall grass. Then she jumped into the donga, where her five companions waited for her only half concealed. We all gasped audibly with our pentup excitement. “I’m so glad I didn’t have to kill that beautiful big cat.” said my husband. “But I gave her only two yards more. Then I should have had to shoot.” We paced it off: she had turned at exactly ten paces! “You have seen one of the biggest things anyone can see in Africa,” my husband said, and the sheer thrill of An Unusual Study of Two Lions in Their Native Haunt Taken by the Akelevs in the Heart of the African Jungles. the moment’s experience brought me conviction p:ist any doubt. And yet, consider the attitude of the so-called “big-game hunter,” who finds it necessary to shoot with guns and not with a camera. He perpetuates the legend that stalking lions is a life-and-death matter. For instance, an American, who decided that he must make an African hunt to round out his social whirl, once asked for suggestions. Two hours of valuable time were given to advising him and, as he was ready to leave, he said: “Very well, 1 shall write Mr. A (naming a professional African hunter) and direct him to arrange a three months’ safari. When I reach Nairobi, I shall show him a list of the things I want to kill, pay for the three months’ safari, if he can manage so that I shoot my game in three weeks. What I really want is to kill these things and get out of this blamed country as soon as I can!” This man, like many others, would like to pose as the daring hunter who has risked his life to kill a lion! It is, however, a superficial form of bravery. Another instance of the exaggerated reputation of ferocity attributed to lions was a recent newspaper report which read: “A new and terrible breed of manrating lion, which makes organized raids on native villages in packs of twenty or thirty and transmits its appetite for human flesh to its cubs, has appeared in the British African Colony of Kenya.” I cabled to Nairobi for verification of this newspaper account which had appeared in the English press and had been cabled to America. The reply said that the report was founded on the l§Bfe*> 111!® WipjC. iPtpsilpl fyjidjt '' y ... m Mrs. Akeley Drove the Camera Car While Her Husband Photographed the I.ions of Tanganyika with Ilis Specially Invented Akeley Camera. weeks, when we turned our cars into a fairly wide valley and traveled not far from the rim of a donga filled with dense brush, large trees and deep grass. On down the valley, where a recent fire had burned off the high g-rass and made the going much easier, we glimpsed something moving across the donga. The sun was now high and the great heat waves were beginning to roll in and distort the whole country in a shimmering mil-age. “They may only be Tommies,” said my husband. But soon vee saw they were lions sitting in the grass, mM Mr. and Mrs. Akeley Are Shown Above with a Group of African Lion Spearmen Who Assisted Them During Their Expedition Into the Lion-Infested District of Tanganyika. rite Akeley Camp in langanvi Which Carl Akeley Collected the Animals for Three Museum Groups. lions’ depredations on Masai cattle. No less an authority than the Game Warden of the Colony stated that man-eat-ers are unknown in Kenya. “No one,” he said, “has been eaten for at least the past eight years, and not a single man-eater has been recorded officially or reported unofficially.” What could *be more natural, however, than that a normal, healthy lion, becoming hungry, should kill for his food? The liton kills—just as human meat-eaters of the world kill—for food. But the lion never kills -wantonly, for sport or in revenge. Yet the popular notion, encouraged by imaginative sportsmen, is that the lion shows no quarter to human beings ir. its native haunts. The fact is the lion, as I have tried to indicate, seldom attacks without provocation. For that reason it is to be hoped that our sportsmen eventually will find as much of a thrill in photographing lions as in shooting them. Newspaper Feati;