LIONS IN AN AERODROME 



like hares across the aerodrome. They had certainly 

 lost no time in coming through the thorn bushes from 

 the mud-hole, for every stitch of their clothing had been 

 torn off. Better to be torn by thorns than by lions ! 



As soon as they could get their breath I questioned 

 them. 



" What 's this yelling about, and where are your 

 clothes ? " 



" Bwana," gasped one of them, " five simbas 

 [lions] at the mud-holes ! Five ! " he said, holding 

 up his hand with fingers and thumb extended to 

 emphasise the fact. 



Calling to a couple of mechanics, I picked up my 

 rifle and started out to look for the brutes. Upon 

 reaching the place where they had been seen I walked 

 cautiously down the little donga, but no lions were 

 to be seen. Their spoor, however, told me that the 

 porters had spoken the truth. 



Two nights afterwards I was lying in my bed when 

 I heard the reports of rifle shooting. I was about to 

 jump out, when bullets began to fly through the tent. 

 Picking up my rifle as I lay in bed, I fired in the 

 direction from which the shots came. Suddenly I 

 remembered that the previous evening a Dutchman 

 had arrived with a convoy, and had outspanned at the 

 end of the aerodrome. Fortunately for him, as I 

 afterwards found out, he had Hghted a big fire close 

 to his wagon. 



231 



