BRITISH EAST AFRICA 201 



appeared that the swamp was hkely to yield 

 some good sport. It very nearly yielded tragedy. 

 Two porters, one a Kavirondo and the other a 

 Wanyamwezi, were badly mauled by an enormous 

 lioness whilst beating the reeds. At first all 

 the efforts of the beaters, despite frenzied yells 

 and trumpets improvised out of oryx horns, were 

 of no avail. The only animal that bolted from 

 cover was a bush-buck. Mohamed, the Somali 

 headman, then had the reeds fired. The flames 

 came tearing down the swamp, crackling and 

 roaring with the madness of the fire. A lioness 

 suddenly rose almost from beneath the feet of 

 the porters. A Wanyamwezi foolishly hit her 

 full between the eyes with a heavy stick. In- 

 stantly she turned on him, and her cruel claws 

 tore his wrist and hand as though they had been 

 pieces of string and matchwood instead of muscle 

 and bone. Then the brute dashed at a Kavirondo 

 and fixed her fangs in his arm. At once the 

 swamp was alive with yelling natives and Somalis 

 screaming at the top of their voices, their fuzzy 

 hair blowing in the wind like the locks of madmen. 

 The fire came rushing on, and I stationed myself 

 on the edge of the swamp and close to where, 

 according to a half-breed Masai-Kikuyu porter, 

 the lioness was lying up. With an ugly sound — 

 partly a grunt, partly a snarl, and partly a belch 

 — a magnificent lioness bounded away into the 

 swamp before the oncoming flames. As she 

 rose I fired at her with my '375, and think I hit 

 her, but rather far back. Elmi swore that she 

 was hard hit. 



The next encounter with her was on the outer 

 fringe of the swamp. She lay crouching under- 

 neath a fair-sized bush, but for the life of me, 

 I could not make the brute's form out. At last, 



