^ More Lion-Hunting Experiences 



in front of me, but so indistinctly that I could not make 

 sure of my shot. To shoot at a venture in such circum- 

 stances would have been suicide. Now, again, I hear 

 him growling angrily. Every nerve is tense ; the outlines 

 oi things seem to quiver in the shimmering sunlight re- 

 flected trom the sand of the velt ; the thorn, becoming 

 denser and denser, made progress almost impossible. 

 There ! — another angry growl — the trap is heard to 

 clatter several times against the ground, and, with a 

 mighty stamping, the lion once again has made off 

 But this time, with a shake of his paw, he has thrown 

 off the trap upon the sand, and our pursuit is in vain. 



My clever Wandorobo, however, managed to make 

 out his tracks as he went off, first with great leaps and 

 bounds, then falling into a kind of ambling trot. Imme- 

 diately I take up the pursuit afresh. Dripping with sweat, 

 I keep on for about a quarter of an hour ; then on again 

 for as long, until at last I see the lion, still raging and 

 growling, evidently in great pain from its wound, starting 

 again on its flight, growling and stamping. 



No one who has not heard it can form any notion of 

 the way a full-grown lion simply thunders along over the 

 hard ground of the velt. I follow him as speedily as I 

 can, with all my pulses beating ; several times I come within 

 sight of him. At last I have him distinctly before me in 

 a small glade. He turns his head towards me. My rifle 

 rings out, and he falls, as though struck by lightning, with 

 a dull thud and a dying growl. A second shot, fired for 

 safety's sake, assures me of my coveted prey. My joy 

 and satisfaction over my hard-won trophy know no bounds. 



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