192 AFRICAN GAME TRAILS 



him. In a few minutes Tarlton pointed out the lion, a 

 splendid old fellow, a heavy male with a yellow and black 

 mane; and after him we went. There was no need to go 

 fast; he was too burly and too savage to run hard, and we 

 were anxious that our hands should be reasonably steady 

 when we shot; all told, the horses, galloping and canter- 

 ing, did not take us two miles. 



The lion stopped and lay down behind a bush; jumping 

 off I took a shot at him at two hundred yards, but only 

 wounded him slightly in one paw; and after a moment's 

 sullen hesitation off he went, lashing his tail. We mounted 

 our horses and went after him; Tarlton lost sight of him, 

 but I marked him lying down behind a low grassy ant-hill. 

 Again we dismounted at a distance 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 him- 

 self, whom I would rather have by me than Tarlton, if in 

 difficulties with a charging lion; on this occasion, however, 

 I am glad to say that his rifle was badly sighted, 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 flesh wound that 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, strik- 



