MAN-EATERS I’VE KNOWN

STORY AND PHOTOS BY SCOTT HAUGEN

rab your gear; we need to go immediately! The lions were back last night and killed again,” urged Joel Hancock.

I’d just knocked on Hancock’s door, having traveled halfway around the world from my home in Alaska’s Arctic to his in Pretoria, South Africa. I was tired from the long journey, but Hancock’s words invigorated me. Within minutes I was dressed, gear loaded, and we were on the road just after midnight.

We arrived in the remote Shangaan village at dawn. The community of a few hundred people, situated on the border of Kruger National Park, was without power and residents owned no weapons. The lions had been killing under the cover of darkness. Donkeys and goats were the main targets, but people had also been killed. The last person was dragged out of bed in the middle of the night from a hut made of sticks and mud; the body was never recovered.

As the sun rose, Hancock met with the chief. He secured a donkey to use as bait, and just before dark we’d tie it to a lone tree in the middle of a hand-tilled field, a few hundred yards from the park boundary and 100 yards from the eastern fringe of the village. Then we’d use predator calls to get the attention of the lions. Villagers reported three lions, while some said seven. No one knew for sure.

By midafternoon our blind was built, 70 yards from where we’d tether the donkey to a lone tree. This was not