96 WAR : A SCOUTS' PATROL 



presence of mind and pluck, he managed to draw 

 his hunting-knife, and a terrible struggle took 

 place between man and beast. The lioness herself 

 was mortally wounded and failing, for, in spite 

 of the terrible wounds he was receiving, Sinclair, 

 by repeated stabs, actually killed her in the 

 struggle. When found by Rensberg — who came 

 up some time afterwards — the lioness was lying 

 dead by Sinclair's side, her great f orepaws stretched 

 across his legs. The dying man recovered con- 

 sciousness, but his injuries were terrible, and 

 nothing could be done for him except to relieve 

 his pain as much as possible and let him lie where 

 he was found till death came. 



That night the lions returned, looking, no doubt, 

 for both the meat of their prey, of which they had 

 been robbed, and for their missing companion. 

 It was necessary to build a big scherm and good 

 fires for the protection of the camp and the oxen, 

 and all night beyond the fires the roar of the great 

 cats was heard. Poor Sinclair died during the 

 night, his Dutch comrade doing all he could for 

 him. Amidst all the tremendous slaughter of the 

 world war, not many died a lonelier death than 

 Sinclair's, or in a wilder spot. 



It was only a few months before that I had 

 last seen him. He and Mafoota were then sitting 

 yarning with me in my camp, at a time when I was 

 myself suffering from my encounter with the lion. 

 Sinclair had had pretty fair luck in his first 

 year's elephant hunting in those parts, and, quite 



