spanned at Saunderson's on the very first day in the 

 Bushveld, was the fresh skin of a lion stretched out 

 to dry. What would the counsels of Solomon himself 

 have weighed against that wet skin ? 



Wisdom scratched its head and stared : " Well, 

 I am com pletely sugared ! " 



Of course it was a fluke. No lions had been seen 

 in the locality for several years ; but the beginner, 

 filled with all the wildest expectations, took no heed 

 of that. If the wish be father to the thought, then 

 surely fact may well beget conviction. It was so 

 in this case, at any rate, and thus not all the cold 

 assurances of Wisdom could banish visions of big 

 game as plentiful as partridges. 



A party had set out upon a tiger hunt to clear out 

 one of those marauders who used to haunt the kloofs 

 of the Berg and make descents upon the Kaffir herds 

 of goats and sheep ; but there was a special interest 

 in this particular tiger, for he had killed one of the 

 white hunters in the last attempt to get at him a few 

 weeks before. Starting from the store, the party 

 of men and boys worked their way towards the kloof, 

 and the possibility of coming across a lion never 

 entered their heads. No notice was taken of smaller 

 game put up from time to time as they moved care- 

 lessly along ; a rustle on the left of the line was ignored, 

 and Bill Saunderson was as surprised as Bill ever could 

 be to see a lion facing him at something like six or 

 seven yards. ,., The lion, with head 



laid level and tail ^^~^^^ flicking ominously, 



half crouched /^^^ TT^ ' for its spring. Bill's 

 19 



