Buffaloes and giraffes are made for running and think nothing of it,
but the lion is built in a different manner, and, moreover, he knows
that these animals are so wonderfully quick of hearing that they
generally obtain a good start to begin with.

But Leo cared nothing for this: if he wanted a buffalo he had it, even
if he raced half the night through for it. As a matter of fact, the
longer the race the more he enjoyed the feast. What could be nicer
than, after racing for miles after a nice, fat buffalo, to pull it
down with his strong paws, to tear open its throat, and drink the warm
blood?

Sometimes he ate a part of the flesh, but not always; he was somewhat
fastidious, and so that he had the warm blood, he more often than not
left the carcass for the wolves and hyenas, or any other animal who
cared to have it.

There was perhaps even more delight in obtaining a giraffe than a
buffalo. For a giraffe can skim over the ground at an amazing pace--so
swiftly, so silently, that not a sound can be heard except the soft,
gentle swish of its funny little tail.

The stately carriage of the giraffe does not appeal to the lion, and
the graceful neck, with its pretty head and round, gentle eyes, has no
effect on him; all he thinks of is the tender flesh and delicate
flavor which belong peculiarly to a giraffe.

There is no struggle as with the buffalo when the lion springs upon
the giraffe. There is no roar or noise of any kind, for the giraffe is
absolutely dumb, and makes no sound even when dying.