228 A HUNTER'S WANDERINGS ch. 



big game shooting. As the unhealthy season was 

 just commencnig, I strongly urged them to put off 

 their projected trip until the following winter. 

 Dorehill yielded to my arguments, and returned with 

 Wood and myself to Tati. Mr. Oates, however, 

 decided to go on and risk it. He reached the falls 

 safely, but soon afterwards was stricken down by the 

 deadly fever, of which he ultimately died in the 

 following February, close to the sources of the Tati 

 river. 



On December 3, whilst trekking along the bank 

 of the Tati river, and when about forty miles distant 

 from the gold-mine, I at last shot my first lion. 

 Many people may think it strange that I should 

 have been so long — nearly three years — living almost 

 entirely in the wilderness, in countries where lions 

 were plentiful, and where I was continually hearing 

 them at nights, and yet never have seen one ; but 

 such is the case, and never since the three lions 

 at Goqui in July 1872, until that day, had I seen 

 another of these animals. Being nocturnal animals, 

 and accustomed to lie asleep in beds of reeds and 

 thick patches of bush during the daytime, it is mere 

 chance work ever coming across them, especially in 

 the " fly "-infested districts, where dogs cannot be 

 used. On this occasion, as Dorehill and myself were 

 riding along through a patch of bush, our ears were 

 suddenly saluted with a muffled growling that we 

 did not immediately interpret. The next instant, 

 however, Hartebeest riashed forwards, pointing with 

 his assegai, and shouting, " Isilouan ! isilouan ! " 

 (Lions! lions!) I saw nothing, but galloped through 

 the bush in the direction he pointed, Dorehill heading 

 a little to the right. A few moments later, coming 

 to a more open part, I saw two large lionesses trotting 



