AFRICA 



and a half. Our very start had been delayed by a 

 breakage of some Dutch-sounding essential to our 

 ox wagon, caused by the confusion of a night attack 

 by lions: almost every night we had lain awake as 

 long as we could to enjoy the deep-breathed grum- 

 bling or the vibrating roars of these beasts. Now at 

 last, having pushed through the dry country to the 

 river in the great plain, we were able to take breath 

 from our mad hurry, and to give our attention to 

 affairs beyond the limits of mere expediency. One 

 of these was getting Billy a shot at a lion. 



Billy had never before wanted to shoot anything 

 except a python. Why a python we could not quite 

 fathom. Personally, I think she had some vague 

 idea of getting even for that Garden of Eden affair. 

 But lately, pythons proving scarcer than in that 

 favoured locality, she had switched to a lion. She 

 wanted, she said, to give the skin to her sister. In 

 vain we pointed out that a zebra hide was very 

 decorative, that lions go to absurd lengths in re- 

 taining possession of their own skins, and other 

 equally convincing facts. It must be a lion or 

 nothing; so naturally we had to make a try. 



There are several ways of getting lions, only one of 

 which is at all likely to afford a steady pot shot to a 

 very small person trying to manipulate an over-size 

 gun. That is to lay out a kill. The idea is to catch 



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