THE BIG LION 



We tore directly up hill as fast as we were able, 

 leaping from rock to rock and thrusting recklessly 

 through the tangle. About halfway up I jumped 

 to the top of a high, conical rock, and thence by 

 good luck caught sight of the lion's great yellow head 

 advancing steadily about eighty yards away. I took 

 as good a sight as I could and pulled trigger. The 

 recoil knocked me clear off the boulder, but as I 

 fell I saw his tail go up and knew that I had hit. 

 At once Clifford Hill and I jumped up on the rock 

 again, but the lion had moved out of sight. By 

 this time, however, the sound of the shots and the 

 smell of blood had caused the dogs to close in. They 

 did not of course attempt to attack the lion nor 

 even to get very near him, but their snarling and 

 barking showed us the beast's whereabout. Even 

 this much is bad judgment on their part, as a number 

 of them have been killed at it. The thicket burst 

 into an unholy row. 



We all manoeuvred rapidly for position. Again 

 luck was with me, for again I saw his great head, 

 the mane standing out all around it; and for the 

 second time I planted a heavy bullet square in 

 his chest. This stopped his advance. He lay 

 down; his head was up and his eyes glared, as he 

 uttered the most reverberating and magnificent roars 

 and growls. The dogs leaped and barked around 



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