S18 IN AFRICA 



"Simba!" I yelled, pointing to the three lions. 



He seemed not to comprehend, and I saw him 

 reluctantly turn from the dogs and fix his glasses 

 upon the direction I indicated. In no time he was 

 hurrying up to join me, and we hastily formed a 

 plan of campaign. The lions had now disappeared 

 over the brow of the hill. I looked at my watch 

 and the hour was not yet nine o'clock. We were 

 still in sight of the distant house-tops of Nairobi. 

 It seemed unbelievable. 



We crossed the nullah and the carriage jolted 

 down and across a few minutes later. We took our 

 seats and studied the plains with our glasses. The 

 lions were not in sight. Then we studied the herds 

 of game and saw that many of them were looking 

 in a certain direction. We drove in that direction 

 and whipped up the mules to a lively trot. In a 

 few minutes Stephenson picked up the three lions 

 far to the left, where they were slowly making their 

 way toward another ravine a mile or so beyond. 



Then began one of the strangest lion hunts ever 

 recorded in African sporting annals. 



You may have read of the practice of "riding" 

 lions. Doctor Rainsford, in his splendid book on 

 lion hunting, describes this thrilling sport in such 

 vivid words that you shiver as you read them. 

 Mounted men gallop after the lion, bring it to bay, 

 and then hold it there until the white hunter comes 

 up to a close range and shoots it. In the meantime 

 the cornered beast is charging savagely at the 

 horsemen, who trust to the speed and quickness of 



