THE LION 181 



made which makes all the difference between a 

 dead and a wounded beast. Should the lion then 

 come, nothing but sang-froid and straight shoot- 

 ing combined with great quickness will save the 

 hunter from grave injury at the very least. If, on 

 the other hand, he should bound into the jungle 

 with a roar of pain and rage, the greatest care 

 and caution must be exercised in his further pur- 

 suit. Lions have in such circumstances a most 

 remarkable and uncanny knack of concealing them- 

 selves behind a tiny cover which one would almost 

 think barely sufficient to shelter a rabbit. If 

 followed, they will often lie low until the hunter, 

 his eyes fixed upon the ground in search of blood- 

 spoor, which is nearly always very faint, ap- 

 proaches near. Then there is a hoarse grunt, a 

 lightning rush, and the great beast, open-mouthed 

 and claws shot out, is upon him without any more 

 warning. The man's disadvantage will thus 

 readily be appreciated. There are, in such a case, 

 unhappily, very few who have survived to recount 

 their experiences, but, as I think my readers will 

 agree, it would be hard to imagine a more nerve- 

 shattering incident. 



In the Quelimane district some few years ago, 

 a young German gentleman whom I knew had 

 such an experience as I have described. He was 

 a tall, powerful man, and had not had much, if 

 any, experience of lion-shooting. On the occasion 

 to which I am referring he was returning to his 

 camp one evening armed with a light magazine 

 rifle — a Mauser or Lee-Metford, if I mistake not 

 — when he espied a lioness in the act of emerging 

 13 



