156 SAFARI 



assassin. A few yards away was a clump of young 

 trees, the tops of which were green and tender. 

 This was another clue to its fate. For after it 

 browsed among the thin African foliage it turned to 

 drink. As it poised awkwardly over the water a 

 tawny blur behind a nearby rise on the rolling plain 

 crept slowly forward. 



In my mind's eye I could see the swish of the big 

 cat's tail as it slunk along with that dreadful running 

 crouch at which the lion and leopard are so skilled. 

 To be sure, from time to time the wary giraffe glanced 

 nervously about. But to fill its long sharp mouth it 

 must plunge nearly its whole nose into the scummy 

 water, fatally shortening its vision. At these in- 

 stants the lion darted forward, each time gaining 

 ten yards or so on its prey. When a himdred yards 

 away all cover ceased. The instinct of the giraffe 

 had arranged for that. Then the charge : a galloping 

 dash so swift that the horrified giraffe sensed but a 

 yellowish light over its shoiilder. 



Probably at ten feet the wet -jawed lion sprang. 

 He landed with claws btmched on the rump of the 

 doomed giraffe. Heart pounding with dread the 

 giraffe set off at the best speed nature had given 

 it. But this speed was as a child's tottering run 

 compared with the hurtling death behind. Nor 

 did the lion cease to run now that he was aboard. 

 He literally galloped right on up the creature's back. 



