MY WIFE HOLDS THE GUN 221 



part. She handled the gun while I cranked the 

 camera. 



Twice she has dropped elephants at my feet. 



Once a lion came charging for me in the open with 

 swift powerful springs. I dared crank because Osa 

 held the gun. At fifteen feet she fired. The enraged 

 beast stumbled but came on. She fired again. This 

 time she dropped him so close I could touch his mane 

 with my toe. 



The feeling that Osa is so accurate a shot means a 

 lot in my camera work. I am usually intent on the 

 focussing and speed of film, and often do not even 

 realize the danger facing us. Osa stands there 

 coolly, gun in hand. If the game is too quiet she 

 wanders forward cautiously and stirs it up. She 

 seems to have no nerves. 



Let me quote a typical passage from Osa's diary. 

 She went down to the lake one morning and met one 

 of those little adventures which would likely be up- 

 setting to a woman not used to the jimgle, but which 

 to Osa has become just routme. 



"On my way back," she says, "I climbed down 

 through some dense growth to the water's edge. 

 Just as I emerged I heard a thud and the breaking of 

 a branch a few yards away. I glanced up and found 

 myself looking into the beady eye of a huge elephant. 

 He was just as surprised as I was. 



" 'Don't move, ' whispered the black with me. 



