Their seeming serenity does injustice to them: with the last rays of the sun in the horizon, the beast awakens to reclaim its kingdom reminding us humans how small we are:

Before going to sleep in our tent, we watched the glittering flashes of eyes go on and off at the edge of our campsite. Nice, we thought. Just that morning we had had breakfast with giraffe and antilope passing by, totally uninterested in our presence. Maybe they were jackals there. They're so curious, aren't they...

The groaning was at first almost inaudible, then growing in volume, getting closer and louder, until ...we knew they had surrounded us, conversing with each other around our tent in a symphony of terror.  Then after two long hours the growling ceased, and all one could hear was the incessant chirping of the grasshoppers.
We felt almost safe in this sudden, apparent tranquility, albeit that there was an eerieness to it.

Then, feeling an urgent and, in retrospect, insane need to go out and relieve myself, I opened the zipper of our tent and stepped outside, only to find a very curious lioness five meters from me. I rushed back inside, and with the growling resuming, I couldn't help thinking about the tales I'd heard of Namibian lions dragging people out of their tents, feasting on them. Shaking, I childishly hid myself in my sleeping bag - as if that had been of any use - and waited. Finally, dawn brought us relief, and, with the pride retreating, we were able to sleep. (ML)

- Our second night in the Serengeti -