TO THE UASIN GISHU 355 



either side high grass and dwarfed and scattered thorn- 

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

 suddenly, a maned lion rose a quarter of a mile ahead of the 

 line and galloped off through 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 un- 

 broken career of rapine and violence; and now the maned 

 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, but 

 who rode foremost, was almost on him; he halted and 

 turned under a low thorn-tree, and we galloped past him to 

 the opposite side, to hold him until the spearmen could 

 come. It was a sore temptation to shoot him; but of course 

 we could not break faith with our Nandi friends. We 

 were only some sixty yards from him, and we watched him 

 with our rifles ready, lest he should charge either us, or 

 the first two or three spearmen, before their companions 

 arrived. 



One by one the spearmen came up, at a run, and grad- 

 ually began to form a ring round him. Each, when he came 

 near enough, crouched behind his shield, his spear in his 

 right hand, his fierce, eager face peering over the shield 

 rim. As man followed man, the lion rose to his feet. His 

 mane bristled, his tail lashed, he held his head low, the upper 

 lip now drooping over the jaws, now drawn up so as to 



