View attachment 129825In the early 1980's I was on a month long overlanding trip across the Kalahari in Botswana, southern Africa. After a few weeks together some of us were craving a little solitude and a break from the constant nighttime chatter of the camp workers. So one night I set up my tent well apart from the main group. I fell asleep reading on my cot and awoke sensing that some critter was in my tent. Remembering that I had not zipped up the door (see attached pix for a view of our rather old fashion tents), I froze, not even opening my eyes. We previously had several encounters with lions, and I was well aware that the black maned lions on the Kalahari have no fear of humans and are notoriously aggressive. Terrified, I was quite certain that a lion was in my tent nosing around. I could smell it, I could hear it breathing. Calling for help was likely to make things worse. Forming a plan of action, I tried to make an exact mental picture of where my flashlight and hunting knife were. I figured I'd blind the beast with the light and slash my way out of the tent, and then call for help! After rehearsing the plan in my head a dozen times, I made my move. In an instant I grabbed the light, got the knife drawn and rolled off the cot to the tent wall. I turned on the light and let out a violent scream. Menacingly facing me in the beam of my xenon Maglight, stood... nothing. No lion, no hyena, no fangs, no claws, nothing. The tent was empty except for me, and two little mice huddled frozen in the bright light, caught chewing on the headphone cord connected to my Sony Walkman. I guess I showed them a thing or two.
That's funny! But I have a feeling that if there was a lion in your tent you would have been woken up as you were being dragged out of it.

