THE LION IN SOUTH AFRICA 341 



fear of touching a branch behind me and making a noise. I 

 could see the black crest of mane between his ears move 

 lightly in the wind, for he was so near that had I held my rifle 

 by the small of the stock I could have touched him with the 

 muzzle by holding it at arm's length. Once only he turned 

 his head and looked round right into my eyes, but of course 

 without seeing me, as I was in the dark, and apparently 

 without taking the slightest alarm, as he again turned his 

 head and stood looking at the waggon as before. I could 

 only see his head, his shoulder being hidden by the right-hand 

 stem of the tree, and I had made up my mind to try and blow 

 his brains out, thinking I was so near that I could not fail 

 to do so even without being able to see the sight of my rifle. 

 I had just got the muzzle of my rifle into the fork of the tree, 

 and was about to raise it quite leisurely, the lion having 

 hitherto showed no signs of uneasiness. I was working as 

 cautiously as possible, when without the slightest warning he 

 suddenly gave a low grating growl, and turned round, his head 

 disappearing instantly from view. With a jerk, I pulled the 

 muzzle of my rifle from the one opening and pushed it through 

 the other, just as the lion walked rapidly past in the direction 

 from which he had come. He was not more than four or 

 five yards from me, and I should certainly have given him a 

 mortal wound, had not my rifle missed fire at this most criti- 

 cal juncture, the hammer giving a loud click in the stillness of 

 the night. At the sound the lion broke into a gallop, and was 

 almost instantly out of sight. 



For a moment I was almost paralysed by the magnitude of 

 the misfortune that had befallen me. That a magnificent 

 black-maned lion should have been within six feet of the muzzle 

 of my rifle, and should yet have escaped, owing to a miss-fire, 

 seemed the very irony of fate. I could scarcely believe that the 

 whole scene was not an illusion or a vivid dream ; but when I 

 called out in Dutch, 'Myn Gott, John, myn roer het dopje 

 afgeklap ' (' My God, John, my gun has missed fire '), and heard 

 him answer, ' Ik hor em, Sir' ('I heard it, Sir'), then I knew 



