The Hunting Grounds 



little noise as possible, but could perceive nothing. I 

 dropped my rifle into the hollow of my arm and 

 picked up a large stone, which I threw into the bush, 

 where I was pretty certain he was, fully expecting 

 him to bound out and give one of us a shot. 



The stone fell with a crash in the bush ; a low 

 growl and a rustling were heard, but nothing appeared, 

 and, after waiting about a quarter of an hour near the 

 place, we had the mortification of hearing him roar 

 about half a mile away. The brute had stolen off 

 like a cur. 



Again and again did we follow him up, but he 

 always got wind of us, and bolted without giving us 

 the chance of a shot. At last, after much difficulty, 

 we got close to him once more ; and this time we 

 thought he seemed inclined to show fight, for we 

 heard him growling in a most savage manner from 

 some deep cover at the bottom of a ravine. I posted 



Mr. B on a small eminence, which commanded 



a view on all sides, and then crept forward as noise- 

 lessly as possible to try and cut off his retreat. 

 Whilst so doing, the lioness came to rejoin the lion 

 (whose growling must have been a summons for her 

 attendance), and I caught a glimpse of her as she 

 was bounding through the bushes, and could have 

 fired a snap shot (which I wish now I had done), 

 but that I wanted to bag the lion, which, the Arabs 

 said, was a large one, with a fine black mane. 



