128 AFRICA SPEAKS 



lion went down in a heap, giving vent to several lusty 

 growls and roars. In the meantime I took a flying 

 shot at the remaining big one wdth the .405, but as 

 the gun was strange to me, only succeeded in nipping 

 him. This made him very angry, and he turned as if 

 to charge but changed his mind and went into the 

 thick bush, where he proceeded to raise a commotion, 

 shaking the small trees and making the ground rumble. 



With the .30 in my hands again I maneuvered into 

 a position where I could see him. He was crouched in 

 the underbrush at about thirty yards and furiously 

 lashing his tail. I could only see his moving tail and 

 part of his head, the body being hidden by sisal and 

 scrub. Taking a careful bead at where I thought his 

 shoulder should be, I fired. More growls and I could 

 see him dragging himself farther into the thicket. 

 Not knowing where either of my bullets had hit, if at 

 all, took another quick shot. The growhng ceased 

 and then the question was, "Is he dead or not.^" 

 There is nothing more dangerous than a wounded lion 

 in thick bush, but the only way to find an answer to 

 our question was to go into the thicket. The fact that 

 there were five other lions in the same small patch of 

 cover, aU of them in perfect health, made it quite excit- 

 ing as Mike and I ventured in shoulder to shoulder 

 while the others watched on the outside. When we 

 found him lying in a smaU open place we noticed he 

 was stiU breathing, but in a short time he expired. 



When Mike and I grabbed his tail, in order to pull 

 him into the open, pandemonium broke loose. The 

 other five Hons had burst out of the thicket with such 

 suddenness that our companions were nearly knocked 

 off their feet, but amidst it all we could hear the voice 



