264 A HUNTER'S WANDERINGS ch. xii 



or unsuccessful, I shall resume my journey to-morrow. 

 His wound, I am afraid, will prevent the lion from 

 returning, but I confidently expect the lioness to put 

 in an appearance. I made this morning two fatal 

 errors. The first was endeavouring to get too close, 

 for had I waited at the bush within twenty yards of 

 the lions, 1 believe I could have had a quiet pot shot 

 at them by daylight. The other was not to have 

 saddled up the yellow horse. This I thought of, and 

 was actually on the point of creeping back from the 

 bush to give the order, when I thought that the 

 possible benefit was not worth the risk of disturbing 

 the lions. Here you have the whole story, and will 

 I am sure be able to understand and appreciate my 

 feeling of bitter disappointment. 



December "]tJi. — The lions did not return last 

 night. Had I not wounded the male they no doubt 

 would have done so. They may come to-night, but 

 I cannot afford to wait any longer on the chance, for 

 time is now precious. Thus, most disgracefully to 

 me, has ended this little episode in my hunting career. 

 I could bite my tongue and tear my hair with vexa- 

 tion. However, the whole affair is past and done 

 with now, so I must try and gradually recover my 

 equanimity, which has not been so much disturbed by 

 the loss of my horse — though that is no trifle — as by 

 my failing to kill the lion. . . . 



Three months later, I learned from my friend Mr. 

 Matthew Clarkson that the Bushmen had found my 

 lion lying dead, a few days after I wounded it. They 

 brought him the skin to buy, and told him that my 

 bullet had broken the beast's lower jaw, and lodged 

 in his neck. As lions are so few and f;ir between 

 about that part of the country, I think there can be 

 no doubt as to its identity. 



