CH. XII] A NATIVE LION HUNT 349 



cruel, fearless ; as they ran they moved with long 

 springy strides. Their head-dresses were fantastic ; they 

 carried ox-hide shields painted with strange devices ; and 

 each bore in his right hand the formidable war-spear, 

 used both for stabbing and for throwing at close 

 quarters. 'J' he narrow spear- lieads of soft iron were 

 bm-nished till tliey shone like silver ; they were four 

 feet long, and the point and edges were razor sharp. 

 Tiie wooden haft appeared for but a few inches ; the 

 long butt w;is also of iron, ending in a spike, so that the 

 spear looked almost solid metal. Yet each sinewy 

 warrior carried his heavy weapon as if it were a toy, 

 twirling it till it glinted in the sun-rays. Herds of 

 game — red hartebeests and striped zebra and wild 

 swine — fled right and left before tlie advance of the 

 line. 



It was noon before we reached a wide, shallow valley, 

 with beds of rushes here and there in the middle, and on 

 either side high grass and dwarfed and scattered thorn- 

 trees. Down this we beat for a couple of miles. Then, 

 suddenly, a mailed lion rose a quarter of a mile ahead of 

 the line and galloped off througli the high grass to the 

 right, and all of us on horseback tore after him. 



He was a magnificent beast, with a black and tawny 

 mane ; in his prime, teeth and claws perfect, with 

 mighty thews, and savage heart. He was lying near 

 a hartebeest on which he had been feasting ; his life 

 had been one unbroken career of rapine and violence ; 

 and now the nianed master of the wilderness, the terror 

 that stalked by night, the grim lord of slaughter, was to 

 meet his doom at the hands of the only foes who dared 

 molest him. 



It was a mile before we brought him to bay. Then 

 the Dutch farmer, Mouton, who had not even a rifle, 



