ACROSS THE MAU ESCARPMENT aa 
as he thought then. We found afterward that one of his 
bullets had passed through the foreleg low down, not break- 
ing the bone. His hunter, waiting for him to shoot, missed 
his first shot, too, but as one of the lions made off toward 
the river, wounded him twice, the first time shooting him 
through the body but too far back, the second time in his 
rump. The lion first stopped in the long grass that bor- 
ders the river jungle, and somewhat recklessly they went 
after him, into it, but he kept lying low and growled omi- 
nously; then, finding they couldn’t see him, they left for home 
There was plenty of blood, and the hunter felt sure he would 
die in a few hours. 
In the evening we talked the matter over and coming to 
the conclusion from what J. J. W.’s hunter said that by 
morning the beast must be dead, we determined to take 
our gunboys and twenty porters to beat up the whole place, 
if necessary, and save the skin from the vultures. Looking 
back on the whole affair now, I blame myself for allow- 
ing the porters to go into such a place, as I blamed the 
hunter at the time, for taking my friend into long grass after 
a wounded lion. It is an exceedingly dangerous thing 
for even an experienced shot to do, one who has command 
both of his nerves and of his weapon. J. J. W. had had no 
previous experience of really dangerous game, and his 
hunter, who afterward proved to be a very nervous shot 
himself, failed his man badly in acting as he did. 
I also placed too much reliance on what this man told 
me, of where the wounds he had given the lion lay. Had 
the first bullet from his .350 Rigby taken the beast anywhere 
near the shoulder, it would indeed have been safe work to 
look for him next day. No lion could live twelve hours 
shot, in that place, with sucha gun. Unfortunately, instead 
of the shoulder, the bullet had taken effect far back in the 
guts, a wound that must prove fatal in time, but one which 
might not cause death for some days. 
