LIONS IN THE OPEN 
149 
years old) had fought bravely with the rest, to secure a rib 
or two, with a knife as big as himself. He well deserved 
the huge piece of good meat I gave him when I got back 
into camp. 
Next morning I left Jiggiga and marched north-east, 
over rocky ground, for about twelve miles, when a man on 
horseback galloped up, saying that two men from a village 
beyond the Abyssinian stockade had stopped three lions for 
me out in the open plain. 
I held a council with my headman and shikaris, thinking 
that he lied, as usual. He admitted that it would take us 
all our time to get there before sunset, and stuck to it that 
the lions were there right enough. 
Whilst everyone was talking nineteen to the dozen, a 
boy, by some means or other, got hold of one of my Express 
rifles, cocked it, and pulled the trigger, the bullet whizzing 
past close between me and my headman, and kicking up the 
dust about 2 feet to my right. There was a simultaneous 
rush of my men upon the unlucky boy, who got so kicked 
and battered about that I marvel how he survived it. It 
was really a miracle that no one was hit, as we were all 
standing close together, offering a large mark. 
At length I decided to try and gallop back before sunset, 
although we had but two ponies, one of which was nearly 
dead-beat already with bringing the news of the lions. My 
shikari and I galloped back those twelve miles as hard as 
we could go. 
When at last we got to the village, we were told that we 
had to go five more miles before we reached the lions. We 
had ridden four miles, I should think, when, to my utter 
dismay, we met four horsemen slowly walking towards us, 
with the news that, after standing by the lions the whole 
morning, and thinking we were not coming, they had let 
them run away. 
There was nothing now to be done but ride those sixteen 
weary miles back to camp. Hiding through the darkness, 
my pony nearly fell over two jackals which refused to get 
