190 HUNTING IN THE SOTIK [ch. viii 



lost sight of him, but I marked him lying down behind 

 a low grassy ant-hill. Again we dismounted at a dis- 

 tance of two hundred yards, Tarlton telling me that 

 now he was sure to charge. In all East Africa there 

 is no man, not even Cuninghame himself, whom I would 

 rather have by me than Tarlton. if in difficulties witii a 

 charging lion ; on tliis occasion, however, I am glad to 

 say that his riHe was badly siglited, and shot altogether 

 too low. 



Again I knelt and fired, but the mass of hair on the 



lion made me think he was nearer than he was, and I 



undershot, inflicting a fiesh wound tliat was neither 



crippling nor fatal. He was already grunting savagely 



and tossing his tail erect, with his head held low, and at 



the shot the great sinewy beast came toward us with 



the speed of a greyhound. Tarlton then, very properly, 



fired, for lion-hunting is no child's play, and it is not 



good to run risks. Ordinarily it is a very mean thing 



to experience joy at a friend's miss, but this was not an 



ordinary case, and I felt keen delight when the bullet 



from the badly sighted rifle missed, striking the groimd 



many yards short. I was sighting carefully, fi'om my 



knee, and I knew I had the lion all right, for though 



he galloped at a great pace, he came on steadily— ears 



laid back, and uttering terrific coughing grunts — and 



there was now no question of making allowance for 



distance, nor, as he was out in the open, for the fact 



that he had not before been distinctly visible. The 



bead of my foresight was exactly on the centre of his 



chest as I pressed the trigger, and the bullet went as 



true as if the place liad been plotted with dividers. The 



blow brought him up all standing, and he fell forward 



on his head. The soft-nosed Winchester bullet had 



gone straight through the chest cavity, smashing the 



