MY FIRST LION 103 
Maddened, but not even scratched by the bullets, the 
lioness covered the remaining distance at an awful pace. 
Ten yards off, not another inch, when a shot from the man 
seated on the antheap, full between the eyes, averted a 
tragedy. It is madness to shoot at a really charging lion, 
at any such distance as that at which this man and his gun- 
bearer shot; for be it always remembered, shooting and 
missing demoralizes all hands. Nineteen times out of twenty, 
however, a lion comes slowly when he charges. As you 
watch him at a distance, it seems very slowly at first. ‘The 
man in his front may not be able so accurately to gauge 
his pace. Gradually he quickens, and crouching may 
make the last few yards very fast indeed. He sometimes 
stands for a moment before finally closing. The Masai 
who still spear many lions, in the old days killed many more 
than they do now. They told me positively that when 
their warriors were charged by a lion they always stood 
stock still. To move meant death, to stand quite immov- 
able meant that before closing, the lion, if unwounded 
would stand, too. Then came the spearman’s one chance. 
The stories you hear of lions charging when unwounded, 
and from a distance, are generally like the same sort of story 
told about rhino or elephant, gross exaggerations. Con- 
fused by the shooting, the beast rushes away and may come 
your way; or again, he will run up to have a nearer look. 
A missionary I knew was in this way ‘‘charged,” as many 
would call it, by three lions, a male and two females. He 
had two cartridges only, and an unreliable .303 carbine. 
The lion ran up to within twelve yards, he estimated it, 
and on his standing firm, growled, and ran back to the 
lionesses. ‘Then a lioness would go through the same 
most trying performance. He standing still, she, too, 
retired. This happened no less than four times. Last 
the lion came so close that the missionary, feeling that this 
time he was coming in, fired and shot away one of his large 
