i8o THE LAND OF THE LION 



Five miles that morning we had ridden, fast as good 

 horses could go. Our game in full view all the time, not 

 a bush, not a rock to hide it for a moment, no cover of any 

 sort, till the long start the second lion had on us, enabled 

 him to gain the swampy ground and bordering reeds that 

 fringed the stream. H. said he never had had quite so 

 ideally perfect a ride, and as we again grasped hands over 

 our lion, safely down, we agreed that there is not, there 

 cannot be, anything in all the world quite equal to riding 

 lion on Sergoit plain. 



As they lay, the lions measured nine feet four inches 

 and nine feet five inches: full grown males. 



It is interesting to note the way a ridden lion advances 

 on his enemy. These two, and the others that were ridden 

 and shot, stood or laid down for a moment to rest and get 

 their wind, and then rose and faced us. None of them 

 growled loudly, as did my first lions when hit, none of them 

 attempted such a roar as the wounded beast that mauled 

 Mombo gave utterance to, as he was roused from his pain- 

 ful lair, and came for his tormentors. These snarled and, 

 thrusting the head forward and the ears down and back, 

 just as an angry cat will, advanced rather slowly at first 

 with stiff tail. Mr. Hoey who had killed and helped to kill 

 many lions, tells me if they are missed or only slightly 

 wounded, they increase steadily the pace of their advance. 

 Generally speaking, lionesses seem to crouch lower than 

 lions, and to come more quickly, too. This renders a 

 really charging lioness one of the most difficult shots that can 

 be made. None of my lions bounded in, after being wounded, 

 except the first, and he stopped and raised his head at fifty 

 yards distance from me. From what I can learn from 

 those who not only shoot steadily, but observe the beast 

 they are shooting at (and there are not a great many hunters 

 who really do this carefully and constantly nine times out 

 of ten the accounts one hears are the unreliable fancy 



