Lions fighting in front of our tent.

Yes, this was the story:
Guided by Klaus, the Botswanan from Berlin, we cruised around third bridge, near the Okawanga Delta, when we spotted three male Lions, who were quite obviously not on the best terms with each other. The two younger of the three kept attacking the older one. At first we thought that they were play fighting with each other.
"No, no" said Klaus, "they are too old for play-fighting. They have a serious disagreement."
The two young ones kept attacking the older one. They would lunge into the fray from both sides, the front and the rear. The older male, defended himself with great skill. There was no roaring. Just a snarling, determined struggle.
Finally they moved off into the thicket and the fight seemed over.
We had reached a clearing. Klaus predicted the possibility of some rain and high winds.
We decided to exchange our single mosy-tent, with a sturdy canvass two man tent.
Dusk fell quickly and sleep came easily after a long day.
I first heard it, still sleep drunk, as if from far off. Swiftly it came closer and closer.
The snarling changed into a roaring which seemed just outside our tent. John sat up with a jerk.
"Holy Hell, what is happening?"
"I think those three Lions have come back." I said.
I could feel my chest vibrating. And I mean, literally vibrating.
The fight seems to have moved to within just meters of our tent.
I heard Klaus calling: "Stay in your tent! Don't come out."
The warning not to step outside our tent was almost comical. Wild horses would not have been able to drag me , or John, outside our probably flimsily inadequate  protection of a single layer of canvas.
When, finally, this wild activity seemed to move further and further into the distance, we still waited till Dawn allowed us to see the tracks of the three combatants in the lose  sandy soil around our tent.
We saw and counted paw prints on either side of the supporting guy-strings and, to this day, I consider it a minor miracle that neither Lion tripped over one of them, bringing the tent in a seriously precarious condition, or bringing it to a collapse over our heads.

I know I have told this story before, many days ago in this series of "AntiCoronaBoredomSafari".
Why am I telling it again?
Because the first time around, I posted the wrong pictures. So let me show you the right ones.
Obviously, there are no images of the night-fight.
But those are the three Lions who, through their roaring, caused my Chest to vibrate and my confidence to shake a little.

Evening: Our Canvas Tent, not very professionally erected.

... somewhat on a precarious slant...

Older Male Lion, Defendant.

Two young challengers.

Second night, different location 

and not visited by three angry Lions.