152 After Big Game in Central Africa 



which I might have taken for the lion if it had 

 not whistled approaches me on all fours ; then 

 another comes, and yet another, until my men and I 

 find ourselves crouched in the midst of complete 

 darkness without a match and without a fire, with a 

 wounded lion dragging itself along twenty yards 

 away. It is imprudent to move away, because the 

 animal can see distinctly, and one might attract its 

 attention. The best thing is to remain quiet and to 

 listen. So the night passes, the dampness and the 

 dew keeping us agreeably cool, and the lion's inter- 

 mittent groans preventing us from falling asleep. 

 Towards morning the comrade of our wounded lion 

 returns and passes within terrible proximity to two 

 of our men who have taken refuge in a small stunted 

 tree, so frightening them that they nearly fell 

 from their perches. It skirts the plain and roars 

 around us in a very unpleasant manner. I would 

 have given much for the sun to rise that morning 

 sooner than usual. At last dawn whitens the horizon, 

 then colours it, and soon the eye, limited at first in 

 the vicinity, is able to see over the plain. Over there 

 is our collapsed hut, the pool and the zebra ; before 

 us are some bushes. 



The hunt begins again ; but this time we can see, 

 and very well too. I take my 303, and, wiping its 

 dew-covered barrel, start to follow the track care- 

 fully. Everywhere are pools of blood where the 

 animal rested : here is the place where it tried to 

 spring on us, and there are furrows made by its claws. 

 The bloody trail leads to a big thicket where it must 



