THE END OF A LION HUNT 



the tree we placed as bait the carcase of a bullock 

 which had died from the bite of the tsetse fly. The 

 scene of operations was barely two hundred yards 

 from my tent — just across the aerodrome. 



The mechanics decided that a good square meal 

 was an indispensable preliminary to a lion hunt, but 

 they lingered so long over it that I told them that unless 

 they hurried up they would not reach the platform 

 before dusk. This injunction was necessary, because 

 in Central Africa, and in fact at all places near the 

 Equator, the twilight is very brief. 



Just as they were going to set out we heard a terrific 

 row coming from the direction of the bait. We stood 

 still and listened. The snarling, growling and roaring 

 grew louder. It was the lions fighting over the dead 

 bullock. 



" What are we going to do ? " asked one of the 

 men. " We can't get to the platform now." 



" The only thing we can do is to stop here and 

 listen," said another. 



They decided to Hsten. 



And so ended the lion hunt. 



The next morning I went down to look at 

 the scene of action. Only a few bones remained 

 of the unfortunate bullock, which told me that 

 there must have been a good bunch of lions at the 

 feast. 



Apparently satisfied, the beasts left us alone for 



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