The Journal of a Sporting Nomad 
ribs to a similar dressing, using a bandage to 
keep the lint in place. The boy was, luckily, more 
frightened than hurt, but he had had a very near 
shave, and I congratulated my lucky stars too 
that I had not been the one to be taken when 
lighting up the grass. I thought now it was 
about time to make for the canoe, for it would 
have been quite impossible to get any sleep 
after what had occurred on the bank, so we 
literally ‘‘ took up our beds and walked.” The 
canoe was very narrow and cramped, but there 
was plenty of room to stretch one’s legs, which 
is something. I lay awake for two hours with 
my rifle on the gunwale, hoping that the lions 
might again come and investigate us, for this 
time I might have had a good shot at one, 
as they would have been silhouetted against the 
sky, and a miss would have been almost an 
impossibility owing to the shortness of the range, 
which could not have been over twenty feet, if 
so far. We were not molested further that night, 
and I slept the sleep of the weary when I was 
tired of watching for a shot. Weddell seemed to 
think that we had been attacked by a lioness. 
It may have been so—I believe a lioness is more 
daring than a lion—but the night was so dark 
that I could not tell what the sex was, I only 
saw the outline of the beast and then let drive 
at it. On thinking the matter over next morning 
I was at a loss to understand why my fingers 
142 
