Laura Heyman thought the night she lay down with the lion would be her last. But she was too spent, too utterly removed from reality or fear, to care.

So Laura went to sleep, cuddling her two-year-old son, Romano, in a hole under a blanket beneath a tree in the middle of the Kalahari Desert.

And the lioness, a young female as shown by the daylight spoor, eventually slept too, on the other side of the same tree, within metres of the 23-year-old mother and boy.

‘Don’t ask me what I would have done if it had attacked,’ said Laura. ‘Now, I think that by instinct I would have shielded Romano with my body. But then I wasn’t thinking at all.’

The encounter with the lioness – which came so close in the dark that Laura actually reached out and touched its claws, before realising what it was – is part of an incredible tale of survival by a couple who believed they were bush-wise, believed they could treat the mighty Kalahari as a day’s excursion.

Laura Heyman and her husband are contrite now. They realise how lucky they are to be alive.

Both abandoned hope during their 13-day ordeal – not only for themselves but for Romano and the unborn infant Laura had carried for eight months.

‘When Jonathan left us on the tenth day, to walk on and try to find help,’ said Laura, ‘I was sure I wouldn’t see him again. And I was sure we would die ourselves, Romano and I and the baby.’

Jonathan knew he was leaving his wife and son in lion country, in a game reserve renowned for its predators. ‘We had seen their tracks on previous days,’ he said. ‘Lion and leopard, wild dogs and jackals. I knew there was very little chance they would not be killed, but I had to do something.’

So he staggered on for another three days. And, miraculously, when he himself could go no further and finally collapsed, he did so within view of a remote cattle post.

Both Laura and Jonathan were born in Botswana, but now live in Windhoek, Namibia. They had been in Serowe on a fortnight’s holiday.

‘We drove there the long way, via South Africa,’ said Jonathan. ‘But an old man in Serowe told us there was a short cut back.

‘He said we could go back through Orapa, turn south past Lake Xau, and then go down to Ghanzi along a track through the Central Kalahari Game Reserve. He’s done it himself, the man said.’

Early on a Sunday, the Heymans set off in their four-wheel-drive bakkie. Jonathan was due back at his job as a motor-spares salesman the following day. They expected to get to Windhoek late that night.

The provisions they took with them were adequate for that expectation, but ludicrously meagre in the light of what was to follow: two tins of bully beef, two tins of baked beans, four tins of fish and three bottles of water.

They also had a cooked chicken which they ate before lunch.

About 100 kilometres past the diamond mining town of Orapa, below Lake Xau, they came across the track as it had been described.

However, once they were in the game reserve, it barely became visible at all. The grass on the middle-mannetjie (crown of the road) was bonnet-height. And by that time it was raining heavily.

By mid-afternoon, the truck had begun to overheat, because the high grass was blocking the flow of air. Then the track suddenly became a muddy ditch. As Jonathan battled to extricate the vehicle, the radiator boiled over and the engine cut out.

Jonathan tried in vain to restart it. Eventually the battery went flat.

For five days, the Heymans waited around their vehicle, hoping someone would come in search of them or they would be seen by some passing aircraft.

The rain turned out to be a blessing in disguise. Water collected in the middle of the canvas cover on the back of the truck. For three days they were able to refill their water bottles.

Then they ran out of both food and water. They had to resort to easing their thirst by sucking dew off the grass in the early mornings and evenings.

On the sixth day, and still no sign of humanity, Jonathan decided there was no alternative but to walk. They set off back along the track, Jonathan carrying Romano on his shoulders, Laura carrying a blanket. They had nothing with which to protect themselves.

They walked mainly in the mornings and evenings. In the heat of the day, they rested under whatever shade they could find. The sun was scorching.

Snakes they saw in abundance. And many buck and some giraffe. And the dreaded spoor of the big cats.

The animals excited Romano. At other times, the little boy was fretful and withdrawn.

At night, Jonathan would dig a hole in the sand under a tree with his bare hands. The three would cover themselves with the blanket and try to sleep.

Jonathan and Laura estimate they managed 15 kilometres a day – 15 fearful, exhausting kilometres. After three more days, Laura could go no further.

On the tenth day, the seventh without food, Jonathan took the decision to proceed alone. Without Romano to carry, he made faster time, but cumulative exhaustion soon took its toll.

When finally he came across the cattle post, he saw a puddle of rainwater. As he bent to drink, he collapsed.

At three o’clock that afternoon, tribesmen returning to the post saw him lying on the side of the track. They revived him with fresh water and got word to the owner of the post, Joseph Ingleton, who arrived later in his bakkie.

‘I told Mr Ingleton my wife and son were back in the game park,’ Jonathan said, ‘and he asked when last I had seen them. I said nearly four days before. He just shook his head.’

Laura and Romano were lying in the bush some metres from the track when she heard the bakkie’s engine. ‘I thought I was hallucinating,’ she said. ‘I just had no thought then that anyone would come.’

The next day, Joseph Ingleton drove the Heymans to the nearest settlement, Rakops, in the central district. From there they were flown by army helicopter to Serowe hospital. The diagnosis for all three was exhaustion, exposure, dehydration and near-starvation.

And the baby? ‘The doctors say it will be absolutely fine,’ said Laura, ‘and here sometime next month.’

From One Man’s Africa.