ONE of our missionaries in northern Rhodesia relates the following experience:
Mission Boat Herald on the Victoria Nyanza
“One night I was riding my cycle through the wilderness on a new road. All the carriers were far ahead, as we had expected to reach the camp before night. While going along a narrow path, I came suddenly on a lion in the jungle close to the wayside. I had not so much as a pocketknife, so was prepared to sell my life rather cheaply. However, I had a box of matches wrapped in a piece of newspaper, which I lighted and held up for his enlightenment. Seeing this, he went off across the road ahead of me, and for a time disappeared in the tall grass. I went on to a village half a mile farther on. But the lion did not leave us. After I reached the village, he came on after me, walking around the huts as near as he dared, muttering his disappointment for two or three hours. I had taken the wrong path, and found myself some ten miles from my tent, in a strange village. I slept in a native hut that night.”
