Born Free

Pati!

You monster.

Nuru, don't leave the drinks

where Pati can get at them.

I'm very sorry, Memsahib. That bad, Pati!

It's not really her fault.

You're not supposed to put temptation

in the path of an alcoholic.

She's not a... She's a rock hyrax.

Yes, and a disgrace to her species.

Anyway, we'll all have to be more careful.

- I'm sure it can't be good for her.

- Yes, but she likes it.

I Know. Now, where did I leave my paints?

Here, Memsahib.

Thank you, Nuru. Will you take Pati?

Thank you.

Now, no more drinking.

I am Joy Adamson...

...and for many years my home has been

in the northern province of Kenya...

...where my husband, George,

was senior game warden.

One of his duties was

to deal with dangerous animals...

...who were a menace

to either human life or to crops.

And we were on safari

in the Boran region...

...where a man-eating lion

had been reported.

Look out!

You've been very successful, haven't you?

- Joy, can you spare a minute?

- Yes, I suppose so. What is it?

I've a little something for you.

- Do they belong to those two up there?

- Yes.

We had to kill the mother.

I'm sorry. She attacked us and

we didn't know why until it was too late.

Poor little dears. Come here, darlings.

Careful!

One gave Sam a first-class scratch.

Not very good-tempered, are they?

Neither are you when you're hungry.

I don't suppose you've fed them.

No, I can't say I have.

You didn't pack any lion's milk

for me before I left.

You didn't ask me.

Come on, darlings, never mind that brute.

We'll feed you.

We'll make you strong and healthy.

Come on.

Well, that wasn't a great success, was it?

But why don't they?

It's at least two days since they've eaten.

- They'll just die.

- Yes, I Know.

It must be the formula.

We haven't hit on it yet.

- We'll just have to try again.

- Right.

Back to the drawing board. Formula...

Thirteen.

George, I've just been thinking

about the cod-liver oil.

Do you think we put too much in?

Twenty-four hours later,

they were still refusing food of any kind.

They were actually dying of starvation

before our eyes.

Formula seventeen.

To be perfectly honest, I'm beginning

to wish I hadn't brought them back.

Come on, darling. Come on, sweetie.

What is it?

What are we going to do with you?

Why won't you eat?

Don't you see you'll die?

Come on, baby,

there's a little sweetie baby.

My little sweeties.

There.

There.

A little nap

and they'll be begging for more.

Yes, thanks to Elsa.

Who?

- The one who took the milk first.

- Oh, yes.

- But why "Elsa"?

- I don't know.

Well, I suppose I do really.

She reminds me of a little girl

I knew at school.

She was the smallest of us all

and not good at games...

...but she was bright and brave and good,

and I liked her very much.

- Her name was Elsa.

- Fair enough.

You're wonderful, too, darling.

After all, you're the one that did it.

Why, sure.

They said I couldn't do it, but I did it.

Formula seventeen. You're a genius.

You really ought to put it on the market.

No.

You see, it would never work

without one special ingredient. This.

I'm not putting that on the market.

Even as babies,

each had a different character.

The largest one,

we called her the "Big One"...

...was vain of her size and strength.

The second largest, Lastika,

was the clown of the three.

But my favorite, of course,

was the smallest, Elsa.

A weakling in size

but the bravest of them all...

...she loved to explore

and investigate and examine.

And there were no limits to her curiosity.

In the wild, she would have been

the throw-out of the pride...

...for the smallest cub in a litter

rarely survives.

But Elsa had no inferiority complex.

All the cubs were, naturally, housetrained...

...and always took great care

to reach the sandboxes outside.

But, also naturally, there were

a few accidents in the early days...

...and when these happened,

they were most embarrassed.

Unfortunately for Pati,

very soon the cubs were too large for her.

At three months old, their teeth

were big enough for them to eat meat.

And this soon meant that poor little Elsa

never got her fair share.

So I kept the best bits for her.

George said he was convinced

Elsa thought I was her mother.

Whatever she thought, she made me happy

by following me everywhere...

...and keeping me company

while George was away.

When they grew older

and needed more room to play...

...we put Nuru in charge of them,

and they got along beautifully.

...we put Nuru in charge of them,

and they got along beautifully.

Elsa!

What are you doing? Go away!

Go! Get away!

Getting them out of their cage for their

morning exercise was never a problem.

Come on, babies.

But putting them to bed was another story.

Come back!

- Come back, Big One.

- Come on, Big One.

Come back, Elsa!

In you go!

Come on. That's it.

Come on. Inside.

And you. There!

Eventually, we had to ban them entirely

from the house.

To make it up to them,

we hung an old tire from a tree...

...and Elsa particularly fell in love with it.

They're beginning to look like lions now.

Yes, and to behave like them, too.

Don't I remember

the father was a man-eater?

You don't believe that man-eating

is an inherited trait, do you?

I don't think anyone really knows.

I hope you're ready for lunch, 'cause I am.

And hungry enough to eat a hyena.

John's just wondering if your cubs

might start eating people one day.

You're joking, of course.

You know my lions are perfect little angels.

Yes, but they'll be very large angels soon.

Isn't it about time you thought

of shipping them off to a zoo?

Is that an order, John?

You're touchy. Have you been feeding him

that lion's milk he's famous for?

Of course it's not an order.

But it's a good idea, isn't it?

Yes, of course, you're right.

We've already arranged to send them

to Rotterdam Zoo.

- We're not ecstatic about it.

- Why? It's excellent.

He means we're going to miss them.

I know I will, terribly.

Particularly one of them.

Of course you will.

They're absolutely loveable at this age.

- Forgot to shut the gates.

- Heaven help the house. Hurry!

Perfect little angels!

John, be a dear and get hold of Elsa.

- Be careful, she's not very strong.

- Neither am I.

No, you don't understand. She's delicate.

So am I. Let George fetch her.

Would you mind keeping your eye on her?

We'll be back in a moment.

All right, my delicate one. Here I come.

- Joy, would you go back and fetch Elsa?

- Yes. I hope John doesn't scare her.

Steady.

Elsa, you naughty girl.

Don't you understand? He's the boss.

I'm sorry, John,

you must have frightened her.

Come on, come on, darling.

You mustn't be afraid of John.

He likes lions.

All too soon, we received word

from the Rotterdam Zoo...

...that it was ready to receive the cubs.

We padded and wired the truck.

And each day we took them out

for a long ride...

...in order to prepare them

for the 180-mile trip to the Nairobi airfield.

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