OF THE OLD WOELD, 4 4 7 



patient, and feeling an old wound ache from change 

 of weather and my cramped position, I wrapped my 

 waterproof round my gun, and placed it against a tree, 

 and, armed with my double rifle and revolver, sallied 

 out towards the point where I fancied the lion was. 



Guided by his roar, which very much resembles 

 the noise made by a bull, followed by several grunts, 

 though, of course, much louder, I scrambled through 

 the brushwood until I got so near that I could dis- 

 tinctly hear him breathe, or rather snore, as he 

 moved along. 



Rain was now falling very heavily ; my clothes 

 were wet through and through, and the night was 

 so dark that I could hardly see two yards before me. 

 I lay down and placed my ear to the ground every 

 now and then, creeping on with the greatest caution, 

 fearing that my footsteps might betray me, 



I could distinctly hear the lion making a curious 

 moaning sound and grunting, within fifty paces from 

 me, and at times I thought I heard a rustling among 

 the bushes as if he was coming towards me, but I 

 saw nothing. 



This game must have lasted nearly an hour, and I 

 was getting nearly tired of it, when, as I was creep- 

 ing along on my hands and knees, I suddenly fell 

 down a steep ravine, about six feet deep, among a 

 lot of thorny bushes, A stream of water, nearly a 

 foot in depth, was flowing at the bottom, and I again 

 fell into this, rifle and all, as I was striving to re- 

 gain my footing. 



