MY FIRST EXPERIENCE IN LION HUNTING. 213 



less, the vultures remembering a slaughter I had made 

 among them a few days previous, had not disturbed it. It 

 was easy to see that the lion had passed my bait without 

 even stopping to smell it. 



I thought perhaps he was satisfied with food, but that he 

 would certainly come down that evening since he had seen 

 the dead horse on his route. My heart bounded with 

 pleasure. The mountain appeared to have grown more 

 beautiful, now that I was sure of the presence of its lord, 

 and I did not notice the weary hours, or the odor of the horse 

 putrifying in the heat, and I fancied my solitary covert in the 

 woods an abode of delight. 



I should add that I examined again the roof of my cell, 

 and wondered to myself how long it would resist the attacks 

 of those paws whose huge traces I saw around me. 



At the moment I was about to enter my cover I heard 

 from the mountain side above me, the loud squeal of a hog, 

 and then the cracking of branches and the rolling of stones 

 as though a troop of cavalry was charging down the hill. 

 Without being able to explain the cause of this sudden 

 uproar, I cocked my gun and pistols, and turning my 

 face to the ravine, awaited the avalanche that seemed to be 

 rolling towards me. I could not tell from whence it was 

 coming, as it seemed to be on the right and the left, and was 

 the more suspicious from being so totally inexplicable. 



All of a sudden an enormous wild boar rushed out in the 

 path, grunting and snorting, and ran down the hill at his 

 utmost gallop. I let him pass without a shot and right on 

 behind him came a whole troop of his comrades, as though 



