The cover of the Observer Magazine of 11 February 1973 shows nature literally red in tooth. George Schaller, the eminent zoologist, spent three years studying and photographing lions in Tanzania’s Serengeti National Park. The article (‘Life with the lions in the Serengeti’) is a sort of prose amuse-bouche before carnivorous carnage became a staple TV diet.
‘Small prey, such as gazelle, present lions with no problem. They are simply grabbed with the paws or slapped down and dispatched with a bite in the neck,’ writes Schaller. ‘But a buffalo, which may scale a tonne, presents a problem. One lioness and a young bull battled for an hour and a half, the buffalo whirling around to face the cat with lowered horns whenever she came close.’
Schaller describes how he observed the lions hunting, eating, fighting and mating, and gained new insights into the complexities of their society. ‘Male lions are rather reticent about expending their energy in hunting – more than three quarters of kills are made by lionesses.’ But rather than damning the male of the species, he explained that ‘slothfulness may have survival value. With lionesses busy hunting, the males function as guards for the cubs, protecting them particularly from hyenas.’
If anything we should pity the male lions. ‘The life of a male is insecure. Fewer than 10% reach old age. Three quarters die violently, caught in poachers’ snares, shot by hunters or killed in fights with others of their kind.’ And there’s another reason why they need to preserve their energy. ‘A male mates repeatedly: one did so 157 times in 55 hours, once every 21 minutes on the average.’ Talk about the lion’s share.
Schaller concludes that ‘Lions are self-indulgent, and seldom permit the needs of cubs to conflict with their own desires.’ Well, give it 55 hours and I’m sure they’ll be happy to help.
