CHAPTER IX
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MY LION FIGHT IN SAN FRANCISCO.
Perhaps the greatest, certainly the most thrilling, of all my experiences is that which I am about to relate. It is the story of my lion fight in San Francisco.
I was performing in that western city at the time of the mid-winter fair, which followed the Chicago Exhibition. In connection with this fair Colonel Bone was exhibiting a great menagerie. One day he advertised a fight to the death between a lion and a bear. A tremendous tent, with accommodation for twenty thousand people, was erected for the occasion. Thousands and thousands of persons had bought tickets, when the police issued an order forbidding the performance, and the proposed spectacle had to be abandoned.
The thought occurred to me that I should take the bear’s place, and measure my strength against the king of the forests. Of course there is always between the unarmed man and the beast this disadvantage, that the beast has natural weapons in his teeth and claws, whilst a man has nothing to help him in the fight. This lion, moreover, was a
## particularly furious animal. Only a week before he made a meal of his
keeper. I have met many lions in various places, and this beast was certainly the largest and finest of them all. I was fully prepared to meet him as he was, provided I could have an equivalent for his claws in a short dagger or some similar weapon; but the law in America, as in England, is rightly very stern against cruelty to animals, and the dagger, of course, could not be allowed. If I desired to meet the beast the only way was to fight him as I would box a man, completely unarmed. As there is no law to prevent cruelty to men, there was no objection to this method, though Colonel Bone, as well as my own friends, insisted that if there was to be a fight it must be a struggle between brute strength and human strength. In short, mittens would have to be placed on the lion’s feet to prevent him from tearing me to pieces with his claws, and a muzzle would have to be placed over his head. Even with these precautions I was advised not to proceed with the contest. “With his strength,” said Colonel Bone, “he’ll knock your head off.” But, personally, I had no fear, I was only anxious for the contest to begin. The engagement was accordingly made, and “A lion fight with Sandow” was boldly advertised. The announcement sent a thrill through the cities for hundreds of miles around, and in order fully to be equipped for a performance which would be bound to attract thousands and thousands of people, I decided to rehearse my fight with the lion beforehand.
Accordingly, preparations were made, and with much difficulty the lion was mittened and muzzled. It took several men with lassos and chains some hours to perform this operation, for not only had they to guard against the animal’s overpowering strength, but they had to proceed cautiously in order not to injure him. A great cage, measuring seventy feet across, was brought round, and into it Colonel Bone, one of the most experienced of lion tamers, let the animal enter. Few people were present, but amongst them was my manager, that tall, slim, great, little Ziegfeld, with a face white as snow. There is no doubt that Mr. Ziegfeld and the small company felt the position acutely, for, though personally I had confidence in myself--and confidence of victory is always half a battle won--yet those around were by no means sure of the issue, and there was some fear that my first fight with a lion might be my last.
However, my purpose being fixed, I entered the cage, unarmed and stripped to the waist. The lion, with fury in his eyes, crouched down ready to spring. Having read a good deal of the methods of the lion I was not unprepared for this form of attack. As he made his last strain for a tremendous leap I stepped sharply to the side and he missed his mark. Turning quickly before he had time fully to recover, I caught him round the throat with my left arm, and round the middle with my right. By this means, though his weight was 530lbs., I lifted him as high as my shoulder, gave him a good hug to assure him that it was necessary to respect me, and tossed him on to the floor.
Thus outdone at his first attempt, the lion roared with rage. Rushing fiercely towards me he raised his huge paw to strike a heavy blow at my head. For the moment, feeling the swish of the lion’s paw as it passed my face, I really thought that Colonel Bone’s remark that he would knock my head off would prove true. Luckily I dodged my head just in time, and got a good grip round the lion’s body, with my chest touching his and his feet over my shoulders. Now came the tussle; the more I hugged him the more he scratched and tore, and, though his feet were mittened, he tore through my tights and parts of my skin. But I had got him as in a vice, and his efforts to get away were fruitless. Choosing an opportune moment, I flung him off me, Colonel Bone and my manager shouting to me to come out of the cage, as I had done enough, and the lion’s rage was unbounded.
I was determined, however, before I left to try just one other feat. Moving away from the lion, I stood with my back towards him, thus inviting him to jump on me. I had not to wait many moments. He sprang right on my back. Throwing up my arms I gripped his head, then caught him firmly by the neck, and in one motion, shot him clean over my own head to the ground before me. Colonel Bone rushed into the cage, snapping two revolvers to keep the lion off, and I came out, my legs torn, my neck bleeding, and with scratches all over my body; but I felt that I had mastered that lion, and that I should have little difficulty in mastering him again at the performance that was to be given next day in public.
When the hour for the fight came, the huge tent which held twenty thousand people was literally packed in every part. The cage with the lion was outside, and whilst he was being mittened and muzzled he became so furious that he broke two iron chains that bound him, and got loose. The people shrieked, the very men who a moment before had been boasting of their bravery, were the first to fly, and there was a general stampede. But the moment the lion saw my eyes fixed fearlessly and firmly on him he seemed paralysed. Colonel Bone came up and pulled out his revolver, telling me not to take my eyes off him, as I had him in my power. Whilst we both remained motionless, the cage was brought near his head, and by a dexterous movement I had him over on his back, and once more he was a prisoner. The keepers tried again to mitten him, and after a great struggle they succeeded.
Then came the scene in the arena. The lion appeared first, and as I entered the whole place shook with cheers and applause. Through the whole of that vast assembly ran a thrill of great excitement, and photographers were there ready to take instantaneous pictures of the various positions of the fight with the lion. But no sooner did I enter the cage than the animal cowered down. He knew that I was his master: and he refused to fight. Feeling that the audience would be sadly disappointed, I tried to goad him on, but nothing would move him. Most beasts are cowards at heart, and this lion having met his match at the rehearsal, refused to budge.
At last I caught hold of his tail and twisted it. This was the only thing that moved him. As he made a bound towards me I dodged, swung round and picked him up, and then tossed him down. The fight lasted scarcely two minutes. The lion, recognising that my strength was too much for him, would fight no more. Though I lifted him up and walked round the arena with him on my shoulders he remained as firm as a rock and as quiet as a lamb. The fierce fight at the rehearsal had subdued his courage. He was clearly conquered. I was afraid that my audience would be disappointed with the comparative tameness of the proceedings, but, on the contrary, everyone seemed thoroughly satisfied, and “the lion fight with Sandow” was long the talk of the day in San Francisco.
[Illustration]
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