The Man-eaters of Tsavo treated the project as one extended buffet table, their accomplishment having been to have eaten more imported Indian coolies than it took to film. He ran forward, spear leveled. As the saying goes, I kid you not. ""What remained of the night, I spent firing at lion noises in the grass with the .308. Based on Capstick's own experiences and the personal accounts of his colleagues, Death in the Long Grass portrays the great killers of the African bush-- not only the lion, leopard, and elephant, but the primitive rhino and the crocodile waiting for its unsuspecting prey, the titanic hippo and the Cape buffalo charging like an express train out I could almost feel his eyes on me, watching forthe opportunity that would bring him flashing onto me.I lifted my foot to slide it slowly forward and heard a tiny noise just off my right elbow. It dawned on him that the lioness must be standing on the stock. Frantically, I tried to locate the lion, but his roars drowned everything out, a solid vortex of impossible sound saturating the hut. They did not go away, though; they just stayed out in the high grass adjacent the camp and growled. "Also," he said, shuffling the dirt with a big toe, "they were a little bit drunk." But the rifle, as bush-scarred as the face of its owner, is not leaning in its usual place beside the bed. For amoment she hesitates, but her ancestral fear of the smell is washed over by the desperation of her hunger. We got within what seemed like inches of that lion, when he let out a fine roar, almost as if he didn't like us there. I was wishing I had listened to mother and become an accountant or a haberdasher as I slipped into a duck-walk and inched ahead. He never made a sound as I tended him, nor did I speak. It's an average rank, and the book has a moderate amount of sales on Amazon. A book I have read and re-read, Capstick being a master story-teller whether recounting personal incidents, or simply relaying some of the tales that abound of hunting dangerous game in Central Africa. Suddenly, the upper hinge had broken, and the woman lost her hold. With my heightened senses, I could now hear the animal padding through the soft dirt outside the hut, looking for a weak point. He had backtracked the lion's stalk, showing where he had lain watching the village, how he had stalked the sleepers, and where he had begun to drag the body. Reviewed in the United Kingdom on August 22, 2017, Reviewed in the United Kingdom on March 22, 2012, Reviewed in the United Kingdom on November 24, 2019, Reviewed in the United Kingdom on January 15, 2007. scary stuff. Shipping cost, delivery date, and order total (including tax) shown at checkout. Ships direct from Amazon! I had come close enough, theoretically, to being a statistic on both occasions to never again underestimate a man-eating feline.I rigged the mosquito netting and took my weekly malaria pill as Silent maneuvered the extra thorn bushes across the barrier. Learn more how customers reviews work on Amazon, St. At twenty yards there was the familiar Whuff! Our payment security system encrypts your information during transmission. At any rate, lions certainly have a creditable record for killing the famous. Used; Good. You will likely recall the sensation from your first childhood camping trip. Huge bands of beaters concentrated the game while the pharaoh shot them with arrows from his chariot. Full content visible, double tap to read brief content. Many animals that I had to previous impressions of, were described much differently than I wouldve expected. I whistled up Silent and told him to get cracking with the normal, for a three-day trip. At ten feet he put his .458 bullet into the center of a growing, dark shape that seemed to float up at him and was fortunate to remove the top of the lion's skull.As they built a fire to skin the cat, two men had to stand guard against the other several lions and lionesses who came practically up to the fire. I eventually declined the presidency of the republic and got to thinking about the consequences of having bashed this chap. I have no soft spots. You may blow a hole in his heart big enough to accommodate a navel orange, but in his condition of hyperadrenia, there will still be enough oxygen in his brain to carry his charge for a surprising distance and enough moxie left over to turn you into something that would give a hyena the dry heaves. I automatically broke the action and dunked in two fresh rounds from between the fingers of my left hand, the greasy cordite fumes stinging my eyes.The thrashing continued outside the hut for a few seconds less than it took me to untie the rawhide lock with quivering fingers. Death in the Long Grass 1LionIt is nearly three o'clock in the sweltering morning of September 2, 1974.In four hot, still hours dawn will hemorrhage like a fresh wound in the sky over the eastern Muchingas, the great, towering walls that confine the upper reaches of the Luangwa River in Zambia's Eastern Province. When it was clear, the man-eater straddled the corpse and, holding it by a limp shoulder, dragged it across the open and into the blackness of bush.The lion easily carried his kill for three miles, pausing only twice to shift his grip. The walls seemed intact, as was the roof. Crawling into the nightmare tangles of thorn on your hands and knees after a big male lion may have very different consequences from kicking a cottontail rabbit out of a Connecticut brush pile, although in each case the sport is called hunting.But for his skin as a personal trophy, the lion is hunted entirely as a personal challenge. As we drove along, I felt an urgent tap on the shoulder from Amos, riding in the back of the old Land Rover. Death in the Long Grass - , Peter Hathaway Capstick, 9781466803923 Then, somehow, with prehistoric certainty I. he was there, very close. ""Where were my guns? I do not enjoy following up either one, but if I had to make a choice between digging a lion or a leopard out of grass, I would take the leopard simply on the basis that although he was much more likely to chew a couple of sirloins off me, he probably would not be as likely to kill me.You get nailed by a lion with one good body bite and, brother, your problems are all over.I am absolutely delighted to tell you that, as of this writing, I have no idea whatsoever of what it feels like to be bitten by a lion. A Spanish client, Armando Bassi of Barcelona, a fine hunter, had wounded a good-maned lion, but it had escapedinto the thick, before Paul could get in a finishing shot. Joubert, half-retching with horror and disgust, executes her with a shot from his .458 Brno, the 510-grain Winchester soft-point dropping the man-eater lifeless across the body of her victim. "What are the details? He thought it unsafe to have a loaded gun around the camp. What does kick into the long grass expression mean? I lit a cigarette from the flat thirty-pack of Matinees. The heat of the African night pressed heavily against him, and, as he paused, the hush of quiet breathing came to his pricked-up ears. It's been written by someone who knows more than most about the subject having spent decades there. The cat, standing over me, growling horribly, seemed confused, then bounded back to attack Silent. My nerves were further jangled when the second client screamed, "Watch it! After all, he had already proven ten times that he had no natural fear of man--the fear that can give the hunter an edge.I thought about Paul Nielssen's mauling in the past year within this same strip of bush, about five miles upriver. I didn't hit one as far as I know, but the shots scared them out of camp. Author: Peter Hathaway Capstick Publisher: St. Martin's Press ISBN: 1466803924 Category : Sports & Recreation Languages : en Pages : 320 Download Book. Although I was tired, sleep came fitfully; possibly the ever-nearing roar of those lions helped keep my mind occupied. With humor, grace, and supreme tension, Capstick takes the reader . As thrilling as any novel, as taut and exciting as any adventure story, Peter Hathaway Capstick's Death in the Long Grass takes us deep into the heart of darkness to view Africa through the eyes of one of the most renowned professional hunters.Few men can say they have known Africa as Capstick has known itleading safaris through lion country; Willy awoke his son-in-law and sent him to start the small Honda generator while he went to the storeroom for the guns. Half the time was spent on hands and knees peering under the dense growth for a patch of tawny hide, hoping, when you saw it that it wasn't attached to a growing halo of teeth hurtling at you in a close-quarter charge. His writing style remains undated, as readable as a tabloid newspaper and as exciting as any Forsyth thriller. The man fell backward onto the ground, and the lioness immediately launched herself through the window after him, landing on his prostrate body.Although barely conscious, Willy De Beer had the presence of mind to try to cover his mutilated head with his hands, a feat he accomplished just as the man-eater grabbed his head in her jaws and started to drag him away. I had hunted man-eating cats twice before this experience: the Okavango man-eater, a famous killer-leopard, and a lioness who had developed a sweet-tooth for Ethiopians. In this novel, Alex's uncle dies in what he is told is a car accident. Reviewed in the United States on October 23, 2022. This is easily the best of Capstick's books and the one that I can't resist going back to. Africa has no patience with careless hunters. Probably, most legally shot lions today are killed by stalking, usually after they have been heard roaring near dawn. I was sure it was badly hurt, perhaps crippled because it stayed in the same position without moving away or attempting a charge. Surprised at her audacity, the cat dropped the man, and the woman was able to pull him into the hut, closing and jamming the door shut. Despite my own shock, I can still close my eyes and see, as if in Super Vistavision, Silent trying to shove his hand into the lion's mouth to buy time for me to recover the rifle and kill him. Also, there is the small consideration that he probably won't be alone. The man was still staring in horror, mumbling gibberish. If you're remotely interested in wildlife, Africa or adventure, you simply MUST read this book. A typical charge by a lion from sixty feet takes a blinking of an eye. The luck of the draw.Willy De Beer, surprisingly, survived his wounds. By the sounds, the lioness was standing over Colin's body. He rolled over, face-up on the dirt, listening to the lion chewing on the young man. The scissor-shaped incisors sheared away huge chunks of meat from buttocks and thighs, the lion chewing with the side of his muzzle until his face and chest were covered with dark gore. Silent hammered the lion one in the nose twice again until, probably confused by my torch and shouting, it ran off into the darkness. Littlehampton Book Services Ltd. First Edition. The lion immediately swarmed over her upper body and, with a crush of fangs, dragged her quickly off.I looked at my wristwatch. The temperature spikes up to 90 degrees F or more, it might end up affecting the grass eventually causing it to die. "Sorry to bugger your holiday," he told me, "but something's come up . However, unless you've promised your carcass toHarvard, the difference between being nabbed by a certifiable man-eater or having your face bitten off by an irate lady lion are, at best, academic. To add the following enhancements to your purchase, choose a different seller. As thrilling as any novel, as taut and exciting as any adventure story, Peter Hathaway Capstick's Death in the Long Grass takes us deep into the heart of darkness to view Africa through the eyes. Death in the long grass: Myanmar's snake bite menace Snake charmer Sein Tin cannot remember how many times he's been bitten by snakes, but he believes the writhing tattoos that coil around his arms and body, several depicting Myanmar's mythical "naga" sea serpent, have saved him from mortal wounds. I was certain the lion could not miss the thump-crash of my heart as it jammed into the bottom of my throat in a choking lump, my mouth full of copper sulphate. She came forward one. Charging lions have been known to cover a hundred yards in just over three seconds. Capstick was a born raconteur whose colorful descriptions and eye for exciting, authentic detail bring us face to face with some of the most ferocious killers in the worldunderrated killers like the surprisingly brave and cunning hyena, silent killers such as the lightning-fast black mamba snake, collective killers like the wild dog. There was a long pause and I knew he was coming. On the dirt floor beside the tent's walls, a watery moonbeam glows on the scratched white stencil of a footlocker: . Never having fired a rifle before, he did not know where the safety catch was or even that there was one. It worked, since she backed up, but not without some violent muttering. Arterial. There were the usual bushveldt sounds of insects, the wet swirls of catfish and crocs on the river, the honking of hippos and the sleepy chatter of insomniac baboons in the grove of fever trees over the ridge. To be on the safe side, I would sleep in the open car with the big rifleagainst my leg. I was too scared to either climb or shout, but got some false courage by possession of my rifle and my over/under with pockets full of ammunition for both. The Chabunkwa man-eater was dead.Ripping off my belt, I placed a tourniquet on Silent's tattered arm. Death in the Long Grass: A Big Game Hunter's Adventures in the African Bush Hardcover - January 15, 1978 by Peter H. Capstick (Author), M. Philip Kahl (Photographer) 1,734 ratings Kindle $15.99 Read with Our Free App Hardcover $29.99 Other new, used and collectible from $9.50 Mass Market Paperback $23.95 Other used and collectible from $19.99 I am, however, a believer in the sooner-or-later theory, sort of an offshoot of Murphy's Law, which, paraphrased, states that if you stick your neck out with the stuff that bites back enough times, you're going to get it sooner or later. I settled down and did my duty. What the hell was Silent looking at, anyway?Moving a quarter of an inch at a time, he began to back away from the bush toward me. Fumbling, he loaded them both, jacking a round into each chamber. Box about a Wyoming game warden. But he'll settle for a cold beer as long as he has his smokes. Hard to put the book down. The singlemindedness of a man-eater was amply demonstrated by C. A. W. Guggisberg in his definitive work on lions, . In one lightning movement it flattened the man, driving long fangs deep into his shoulder. He had 222 stitches in his head alone and immense skin and bone grafting work on both head and hands. He was still giving the same, meaningless shout as I shook off my numbness and scrambled to my feet, ripping away branches like a mad man searching for the gun. That night, back in my own camp, I took a long bath and sat smoking in the tub, with a tall glass of man's best friend at my elbow. The grass can thrive in almost every type of soil, though it prefers well-drained variants. He wasn't certain what had awakened him but realized that he could hear the breathing of a heavy animal just through the grass of the walls. This book give us some . Price does not include postage. As lions go, he was a real beaut, well over nine feet and with an anthracite neckpiece that grew down to his cuticles. As the professional, Paul was obliged to earn his $25 per day salary by following the lion and killing it. May be a former library book. ""Roger, Cyril. A deep, warning snarl cut the thin light of the naked bulb outside the hut and De Beer cursed. Over. I wished they would quit doing that. To nearly all of us, the concept of being eaten, , is so remote as to be unthinkable. Pieces of dry grass and dust shook down cloudlike from the roof into my hair and eyes. German ebook free download Death in the Long Grass Few men can say they have known Africa as Peter Hathaway Capstick has know it leading safaris through lion country; tracking man-eating leopards along tangled jungle paths; running for cover as fear-maddened elephants stampede in all directions. After all, fried chicken anyone? I dropped the drink, clapped my hands as loud as I could, and screamed a very unprintable phrase, tensed for that long fall to the water if she took it unkindly. The banks of the river in this area are perhaps forty to fifty feet high, and below them is one of the niftiest collections of large crocodiles and hippos you would ever want to see. She lashed out of the blackness and caught De Beer behind the head at the base of the skull, the two-inch talons driving to bone and holding him like great fishhooks. My back flat to the wall, I swung the torch in a slow, wide arc, the dark, grape-jelly gleam of blood spoor reflecting in the lightbeam. The Death of Grass was the first of several post-apocalyptic novels written by Youd. while her husband sat nearby chanting, playing a small drum. Three more unearthly screams followed. I didn't miss the second time as he dragged himself toward me with his front paws.Lion charges are usually, but not always, preceded by a short grunt, which is a great aid in locating the cat. Sometimes, however, the victim is grasped by the body and dragged off to be eaten alive. Coming up, he shouted and yelled at the lion to draw its attention and blew the cat's head into pudding with his own .458. All rights reserved. Lions are hunted for the same reason people skydive, race cars, or, in extreme cases, play Russian roulette. She had been too busy with Willy De Beer to realize Matthews' presence but suddenly dropped the ranger and, with a hair-raising roar, charged the prostrate boy. The cat gave a horrible roar and released Silent as I wrenched the spear free, the long point bright with blood. I just read it again, and loved it just as much as when it was first published Still, I knew that there had been cases of lions killing as frequently as twice the same night and that, anyway, man-eaters have an uncanny way of showing up where least expected. A "big" bite in the thoracic region by a lion is almost sure death, but victims caught by a shoulder or leg can live a long time in the most unspeakable horror and agony. David Livingstone was severely mauled in his early days by a lion he had wounded in Bechuanaland, the cat grabbing him by the shoulder and shaking him until he felt no pain at all. I can't wait to finish it tonight. May contain highlighting and or writing. Before Joubert can come up with his express rifle, the Zambian foolishly wounds the man-eater with a blast of SG buckshot from his single-barrel-issue Greener shotgun/carbine. As if brain-shot he instantly collapsed as the edge of the blade found and severed the spinal chord, killing him at once. Colin Matthews has had many operations on his hand, but it is not expected to be of much use to him again. After giving up his career, the New Jersey native hunted in Central and South America before going to Africa in 1968, where he held professional hunting licenses in Ethiopia, Zambia, Botswana, and Rhodesia (now Zimbabwe). At least those shots might keep the lions in the grass and out of camp. What if Len wasn't dead but only unconscious? Very bad form, indeed. Gritting his teeth, he eased his head into the window, catching a glimpse of Harvey's bloody legs in a thin bar of light. Reviewed in the United States on April 9, 2023. Still measuring our relative distances carefully, I decided to take a step toward her. ""In the security of camp fires and lanterns which had been lit, I just happened to check the shotgun in case those lions did return. Another yard and she seemed uncertain. One of them, older and more weather worn, is pitched fifty yards from the others. The safety was off the .470 and the night sight, an oversized bead of wart hog ivory, which doesn't yellow like elephant ivory, was flipped up for fast sighting in the deep shade. We don't have any Game Department people in the area and it'll be a few days before we can get somebody up from Valley Command or Nsefu. Too late. Silent entered with my flask, and we were able to get a gagging shot down his throat. I could see the tightness of his knuckles on the knobby, thornwood shaft of the spear. Most of her frontal lower teeth were missing, but she stillmanaged to gum fourteen Galla tribesmen with quite definitive results.Possibly, the practice of the early explorers to consider all man-eaters as "mangy brutes" is better rooted in psychology than fact. Crush of fangs, dragged her quickly off.I looked at my wristwatch are. Her hunger bugger your holiday, '' he told me, growling horribly, seemed confused, then bounded to! 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