The Journal of a Sporting Nomad 
then set the surrounding country on fire. This 
spread famously, but at a point twenty feet up- 
river of me I left a small tongue of grass that 
seemed to be damp and would not burn. Tom 
had, meanwhile, been coaxing the kettle to boil, 
there were barely enough sticks for this purpose. 
Our supper was a primitive affair of cold meat 
and bread and butter, washed down with tea. 
It was now quite dark, the sky being studded 
with millions of stars. On the opposite side of 
the river, which in this place was seventy yards 
or so wide, and close to the water, three different 
lions were roaring. They made so much noise 
that I happened to say to Weddell, “‘ Perhaps 
it is as well that I lit the grass, for there are 
probably plenty of lions on this side also,”’ little 
thinking how close some of them must have been 
to us at the moment. Weddell replied that he 
did not think there were any on our side, as they 
would have answered the roaring of those 
opposite. However, I took up the torch again, 
which I lit from the embers of our fire, then 
approached the small tongue of grass that I had 
failed to ignite a few minutes earlier. I did not 
make a job of it, though; it burnt a little, then 
went out suddenly. As things subsequently 
happened, there is no sort of doubt that when 
I was thus employed I was within but a few 
yards of a lion or lioness. The animal probably 
did not go for me owing to the fact that I held 
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