176 THE LAND OF THE LION 
were scarcely out of his mouth before a tiny yellow spot, 
fully one thousand yards away, caught his eye first, and 
then that of my gunbearer Brownie. I heard Brownie 
whisper ‘“‘simba,” and an instant after H. clapped the glass. 
into his pocket. ‘“‘A lion — and we can cut him off! The 
going is splendid. He is ours!”’ 
We started at a hard gallop. The gunbearers, of 
course, came along as fast as they could, but were soon far 
behind. But H. and I carried our rifles, he a double .450, 
I the gun I always use — my .350 Mauser repeater. Nowto 
the naked eye that yellow spot, above the yellow grass, on the 
far-off ridge, was visible. He is watching us, but cannot 
make up his mind torun. A hundred yards more, we are 
within a third of a mile of him — he is off! As he clears 
the grass and bounds away with long, clean stride, every 
bit of his splendid lissome body is visible —a full grown 
male. Now it’s sit down and ride hard as man and beast 
can go. A yell, and we are off! The horses need no 
urging. They see their game and race for dear life. He 
holds his own, or almost his own for about half a mile. 
No twining grass or weeds pull him back. And then we 
gain fast. I try and keep within a couple of hundred yards 
of the racers, and so staunch is the fine mule I am riding 
and so eager is he not to be left behind, that though in the 
first keen rush the ponies distance me, I am almost holding 
my own now. More thana mile and a half we have ridden. 
I can see the lion is done. Suddenly he halts in his stride, 
he drops from gallop to trot. H. is past him in an instant. 
He wheels to bay, stands looking first at one pony, then at 
the other, then back at me. His retreat is cut off, and he 
knows it. For a moment he lies down and takes his breath, 
then slowly rises to his feet. His tail swinging from side 
to side —which of the three of us shall he tackle? There 
is no time to lose, so I cut him down with two shots. 
We had only just dismounted and were congratulating 
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