A DAY ON THE ISIOLA 



ground at a terrific speed in order to be in at the 

 death. And he was just about all in at the death. 

 He could barely gasp his breath, his eyes stuck out; 

 he looked close to apoplexy. 



"Bwana! bwana!" was all he could say. "Mas- 

 ter! master!" 



We shook hands with Fundi. 



"My son," said I, "you're a true sport: and you'll 

 surely get yours later." 



He did not understand me, but he grinned. The 

 gunbearers began to drift in, also completely pumped. 

 They set up a feeble shout when they saw the dead 

 lion. It was a good maned beast, three feet six 

 inches at the shoulder, and nine feet long. 



We left Fundi with the lion, instructing him to 

 stay there until some of the other men came up. 

 We remounted and pushed on slowly in hopes of 

 coming on one of the others. 



Here and there we rode, our courses interweaving, 

 looking eagerly. And lo! through a tiny opening 

 in the brush we espied one of those elusive gerenuk 

 standing not over one hundred yards away. Where- 

 upon I dismounted and did some of the worst shooting 

 I perpetrated in Africa, for I let loose three times at 

 him before I landed. But land I did, and there was 

 one Lesser Hoodoo broken. Truly this was our day. 



We measured him and started to prepare the tro- 

 185 



