Lion 



made friends with one Askar Gerad, who lives 

 west of Har^eisa — a tall man with a hu^e 

 aquiline nose, and a good chap to boot. His 

 brother and company on horseback having located 

 a lion in a patch of dry grass and bush, the pro- 

 cedure was as follows. I was posted down wind 

 of the patch and fairly close. Near me was a man 

 mounted on a white pony, about sixty yards from 

 the bush and also down wind. The local savages 

 then lighted the o-rass to windwards and made a 

 fearful hullabaloo. After five minutes or so I saw 

 the lion, indistinctly, moving on my edge of the 

 grass. A moment later, when things were getting 

 too hot for him, out he dashed past me and my 

 gun-bearer, going straight for the pony. The 

 rider was quite ready, of course, and galloped off. 

 I had a nice side shot as he was crossing my front 

 at twenty yards or so, and floored him. The idea 

 is, they say, that a lion under similar conditions 

 always goes for an animal (which must be a speedy 

 one in case the lion is missed) rather than for 

 a mere man on foot. I should say that now and 

 again the notion might fail, but it certainly came 

 off then, and is Askar Gerad's usual method of 

 hunting lions. 



This is rather a digression, however, as hardly 

 had the lion bit the dust than his mate turned 

 up, this time charging the gun-bearers, who had 

 run to the carcase of the first one. I was walk- 

 ing quietly towards it, and, luckily, had my rifle 



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