74 PEACE: LION HUNTING 



deadened the sound of his breathing. Slowly and 

 with the greatest care I advanced some ten or 

 twelve yards, expecting every second to see the 

 lion, and feeling that if I could just get time 

 to raise my rifle and cover him it would settle the 

 matter at once. I had just worked up to a 

 straggly young thorn bush, and was crouching 

 behind it, when in a flash I saw the lion, moving, 

 and moving rapidly, towards me. With poor 

 generalship I had got into a bad place, since, 

 though I could see him plainly, the thorn bush was 

 too high to shoot over, and no one would dare 

 attempt to shoot through it. I could neither run 

 away nor remain where I was, so I had to step out 

 clear of the bush, almost towards the charging 

 beast. He was then quite close, within twenty 

 yards perhaps. There was no time to kneel and get 

 a sight on the broad chest : I had simply to throw 

 up the rifle like a shot-gun and shoot straight into 

 him. Where I hit him, or whether I missed him 

 entirely (which was possible enough, for I expect 

 my rifle went off more from fright than anything 

 else), I did not know.* I only realised that I had 

 fired, that he was still moving, and was now nearly 

 upon me. This certainty that he had not been 

 stopped brought a nasty tightening up sort of 

 feeling, which was perhaps the most unpleasant 

 part of the whole affair. 



* I found long afterwards that I had broken his front leg, as a 

 wounded lion with a track showing a front leg broken was a day or two 

 later lying in the reeds, near the neighbouring Lekasi waterhole, and 

 frightening the women from drawing water. Johnson and West told 

 me this afterwards. 



