150 IN THE GRIP OF THE NYIKA chap. 



gun-bearers discharged their rifles, crying out that 

 the Hons were about to burst into our enclosure 

 through the flimsy bushes they were guarding at the 

 rear. Altogether, what with growHng hons, shouting 

 natives, and belching rifles, the din for a minute 

 or so was appalling. 



Then followed the deep silence of the night. I 

 listened intently for the sound which would tell us 

 that we^ had not failed to hit one or other of the 

 beasts, and at last it came, the long, low growl which 

 a lion always gives when he is wounded and gets to 

 a bit of covert. "He's hit! He's badly hit!" I 

 cried to my companions. " We will get him in the 

 morning." 



A few more growls followed, and then once 

 more everything became silent. There was nothing^ 

 to be done now but to wait eagerly for the dawn, 

 and with the exception of the melancholy cry of 

 a hyeena somewhere near us, nothing further 

 disturbed the remainder of the night. Before it 

 was quite daylight I made a fire just outside the 

 enclosure, as it was very chilly, and here we warmed 

 ourselves and waited to see what luck had in store 

 for us. 



As soon as there was light enough we went to 

 investigate, and found that two bullets (my own and 

 Mrs. B.'s) had gone clean through the dead eland, 

 while B.'s could nowhere be discovered. We 



