106 MY SOMALI BOOK 



came out past me at a gallop at only four paces distance. 

 He did not know where the shot had come from and, 

 close as he was, did not see me at all. I let him get 

 well past and then gave him the second barrel behind 

 the shoulder at eight yards. He dropped in his tracks. 

 I snatched up the -400 to " mak siccar," but there was 

 no need. The Paradox had scored again and the King 

 of Beasts lay at my feet. 



Could life for a shikari hold a prouder moment ? 

 I remembered the day I shot my first panther, bigger 

 than any I have shot since — but what was the biggest 

 panther that ever lived compared to this ? The 

 glorious horns of my first kudu — but what was a kudu 

 to-day ? My first tiger, a notorious man-eater by the 

 way — but I did not bag him single-handed, and it was 

 from the safety of a rnachdn, though there had followed 

 some anxious moments : besides, the tiger himself still 

 ranks below the King. Even in my first meeting with 

 the Royal Family on that wonderful 2nd of August, 

 there had been something lacking since Himself was 

 not there. 



A tiger might show the equal of those massive 

 forearms, but that grand head set in a mass of beautiful 

 black mane could have no rival. And the circum- 

 stances had a glamour that was all their own. When 

 the big kudu died, for a moment — though it soon 

 passed — it seemed a shame to have taken such a 

 splendid life ; but here, it may be an unworthy con- 

 fession, I could find no room for regret. I stood and 

 gazed my fill. I was utterly content. 



He measured 9 feet 3| inches " straight " as he lay, 

 good for the Somali lion, which is reckoned a small 



