AT GRIPS WITH THE LION 71 



At first I expected the lion to show up at any 

 moment, but as the minutes passed and he did 

 not come, my tension slackened a little, and I 

 glanced back over my shoulder to see where my 

 boys were. Perched up in three or four trees, 

 some fifty yards to my rear, they all were, and the 

 twelve niggers thus settled on the branches, one 

 above the other, like a flock of great blackbirds, 

 presented a distinctly comical appearance. They 

 are not to be blamed for bolting. It was not as 

 if I had been suddenly attacked and seized by the 

 lion when they were with me. Their attitude now 

 said quite plainly, " We have done our share in 

 bringing him up to the lion ; if the white man likes 

 to remain down there looking for trouble, well and 

 good ; it's his funeral, not ours." 



One more angry whine came from ahead, but 

 nothing more, and there was no other sign of the 

 animal. The fire in front was still burning and 

 crackling, but only somewhat spasmodically, 

 through the thinner grass of the old cultivation 

 patch. I kept quite still, anxiously watching my 

 front ; but after a time I began to feel tired, and 

 to wonder what should be the next move. I 

 really could not stay there all day. It had been 

 anxious and close work from the time we had 

 first taken up the spoor of the wounded beast (for 

 I knew there was a risk of having to stand a 

 savage charge almost at any moment), and I 

 did not feel too game : at the same time I wanted 

 to finish the hunt. I did not like the idea of 



