FIRST GLIMPSE OF A WILD LION 93 



The dry creek bed lay in the course of our home- 

 ward march, and we resolved to take a final look at 

 it. There seemed no likelihood that the lion was 

 there, and I walked into the place with the su- 

 preme courage of one who doesn't expect to find 

 anything hostile. My head gunbearer and I had 

 crossed and were walking down in the grass at one 

 side. My second gunbearer was on the opposite 

 side, and the stillness of death hung over the burn- 

 ing plain. 



There was not a sign of life in any direction. 

 The second gunbearer was instructed to set fire to 

 the grass in the hope of awakening some protest 

 from the lion in case he was still in the vicinity. 

 There was a dry crackling of flames, and before we 

 could count ten a deep growl came from somewhere 

 in front of me, evidently on one of the edges of the 

 creek bed. The second gunbearer was the first to 

 locate him, and he signaled for me to come over 

 on his side of the creek. In a moment I had dashed 

 down and had climbed out on the other side and was 

 eagerly gazing at a clump of bushes indicated by 

 the Kikuyu. At first I could distinguish nothing, 

 but soon I saw the tawny flanks and the lashing tail 

 of the lion. His head was hidden by the bushes. 

 At that time we were about a hundred yards from 

 him and it was necessary to circle off to a point 

 where the rest of his body could be seen. A little 

 side ravine intervened, and I had to cross it and 

 come directly down through the clump of bushes. 

 The grass was high, and it was not until I had come 



