Precariously perched in the small tree, the hunter peered into the night, his eyes slowly adjusting to the eerie light cast by the moon. The year was 1903; the place: Sabi Sands, South Africa.
Harry Wolhuter was shaking from a combination of cold and fear. What was left of his clothes was soaked with blood, not all of it his own. His shoulder was bleeding badly, though he wasn’t feeling pain. His biggest worry was that he might faint and fall from his roost.
Wolhuter looked down and stared in horror at the head of a male lion, its upturned eyes reflecting the moonlight. He knew the lion would probably climb up to get him; after all, he’d managed to climb the tree in spite of his wounds. Wolhuter was beginning cramp up and could hardly move. Realizing that his time on this earth would soon be over, he returned the lion’s stare, shivered and reflected on the horror that had brought him to this place.
Accompanied by one of his dogs, Harry Wolhuter had been riding for hours in search of water. The light was fading and night was coming on. He could hear rustling in the grass ahead of him, but was unable to make out anything. Perhaps it was a sudden splash of moonlight that enabled him to distinguish the all-too-familiar forms of two male lions heading straight for him. Soon the cats were only a few yards away, and though Harry had a rifle, there was no time to raise it to his shoulder. He turned his horse and gave spur, knowing the lions would come after them.
Wolhuter’s horse began bucking with fear as one of the lions tried to dig its claws into its haunches. The other cat likewise overtook the horse, throwing Wolhuter out of the saddle and on top of the lion, which snatched the fallen rider by the right shoulder and started to drag him away. The other lion, meanwhile, continued to pursue the runaway horse, which in turn was being chased by his dog.
Wolhuter was on his back and the lion began dragging him away, straddling the man’s body with his powerful legs. Every now and then the hunter’s spurs dug into the parched soil, acting as a brake and causing the lion to jerk the man’s shoulder even harder. Wolhuter’s pain was almost unbearable, but he didn’t pass out.
After being dragged for what he thought was many miles, Wolhuter remembered the sheath knife attached to his belt on the right side. Hoping it had not been dislodged, he reached around his back with his left arm and managed to pull the knife free. The man’s face was pressed so tightly against the lion’s mane that he was unable to see, forcing him to do everything by feel.
With great difficulty Wolhuter gradually located the cat’s heart. All the time the cat was purring very loudly, obviously quite happy with his prize. Fearful that he might miss the heart, or worse, drop the knife, he gripped it as tightly as possible and with a backward movement stabbed twice. The lion dropped his prey and let out a mighty roar.
Still lying under the beast, Wolhuter plunged his knife into the lion’s throat, severing its jugular and showering him with blood. Releasing its hold, the wounded lion slinked off into the night.
Wolhuter staggered to his feet, and figuring the second lion would probably follow his blood spoor, he sought refuge in a tree to await the inevitable – or a miraculous rescue.
It didn’t take long. Soon he was staring down on what he had feared: the second lion. Thankfully, it did not try to climb the tree; instead, it would wander off, lie down in the bush, then return to the tree. And so the hours passed.
Then, just before daybreak and with the bush coming to life, Wolhuter heard the welcome sound of his boys coming toward the tree. They lit a fire to keep away the lion and attended to the hunter’s horrible wounds.
For Harry Wolhuter, one of the first rangers in Kruger National Park, his ordeal wasn’t over. His boys arrived without water and he feared he’d die without it. Amazingly, with the help of his native helpers, he walked some six miles to a waterhole where they patched him up.
He sent some of the men back to skin the dead lion and to find his horse. Although skeptical that Wolhuter had in fact killed the huge predator with a knife, they not only found the cat, but returned with its skull and even the heart to show where the knife had pierced it. The horse only had minor injuries to its haunches, but was so spooked by the ordeal that Wolhuter had to retire it from service.
Within days the ranger’s injuries had turned septic and he had to be carried in relays over nearly a week of arduous travel before he could get the hospital in Komatipoort. His ordeal remains one of the most incredible stories in the annals of African adventure.
Finishing the final book in the iconic Legends series, Legendary Hunters and Explorers is the epitome of Sir John Seerey-Lester’s spirit. Filled with over 120 paintings and 45 descriptive chapters, the new 200-page book relives the compelling stories of 25 acclaimed hunters and explorers. Buy Now