Tyler Sharp

Simba Bara Mwezi (Lion Moon)

During my time in Tanzania, I have had many encounters with the king of beasts, but the most harrowing by far was with the lion pictured here. Recognizable by his mohawk mane, this photo was taken a few days after my nocturnal encounter with this prowling beast.

At 4 AM I was awoken by the unmistakable and haunting sound of a male lion’s call in the still of the night,  less than 50 yards away. As I lay there listening , I noticed that the canvas door to our tent had been left wide open for the breeze to come in. My heart quickened in pace as my imagination played out in detail various scenarios of fate.

As I lay listening and thinking, the lion let out a much louder call, this time much closer. I was frozen with indecision. As the breeze died, and the darkness grew in silence, I knew the lion was very close. I whispered to my tent mate Georgie, a professional hunter, asking if he heard the lion. His only reply was a light snore, lying totally unaware of the growing tension of the situation. The only gun bearer being fast asleep, I swallowed hard and peered out into the moonlit scene.

The lion roared once more, this time directly behind my tent. Aside from the blood pumping in my ears, the only sound I could hear was his heavy breathing and lowly grunts. I had the urge to run out of the tent really quickly, untie the flaps, close the canvas door, and run back in to safety. Not one minute later, as I peered out into the moonlit scene in front of the tent, he strode silently out of the shadows. Huge and lurking, he stepped fully into the moonlight and paused, his tail flicking in the silence. A beast of seemingly mythical proportions, I was in disbelief at his gargantuan size.

My bed creaked as I leaned on my elbow, and the lion turned around sharply. He was staring at me through the open door of the tent, not 10 yards away. I froze, overtaken by this frightening and beautiful scene, and awaited my fate. After staring me down for a good 20 seconds, the lion turned around and walked towards the river, pausing briefly to scratch his face on the reed fence, jumped in, and swam across to the other bank. As he continued to prowl, his distant calls could be heard until early in the morning, lingering on the edges of my dreams, reminding me of the magical but frightening experience. The King of Beasts truly…

This entry was posted on Wednesday, April 28th, 2010 at 5:20 PM. It is filed under Short Stories, Tanzania, Travel Tales and tagged with Africa, April 2010, Kilombero North, Lion, Tanzania. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.