322 IN AFRICA 



We sat down in despair. The greatest chance of 

 the whole trip was gone. 



"That's the last we'll see of them," said I 

 oracularly as I sat upon a stone. My hand was 

 covered with blood, but alas ! it was mine and not the 

 lion's. 



The carriage appeared and we held a prolonged 

 consolation meeting. Suddenly our general utility 

 boy, Happy Bill, uttered a low cry of warning. 

 We turned, and there, in the valley ahead of us, 

 the three lions were again seen. They had evidently 

 passed through the reeds without stopping and had 

 continued across only a few yards from where we 

 were now standing. 



Fate seemed determined to give us plenty of 

 chances to get these lions. Again we opened fire 

 on them at about four or five hundred yards. My 

 big-gun ammunition was gone, so I fired with my 

 .256. 



No result! The distance was too great and our 

 bombardment was fruitless. The black-maned lion 

 was in a bad humor and repeatedly turned as if 

 intent to stop and defend his outraged dignity. In 

 a few moments the three lions disappeared in the 

 tall grass that fringed a big reed bed many acres 

 in extent. 



For an hour we raked the reed bed with shot, 

 hoping to drive them from cover. But that was the 

 last we saw of the lions. A little bunch of water- 

 buck does were scared up, but nothing else. The 

 lions were now safe, for nothing less than fifty 



