62 TWO DIANAS IN SOMALILAND 
me away. I ran forward to investigate, with my rifle 
at the trail. I don’t excuse such folly, and I got my 
deserts. Worse remains behind. It was my rule to 
reload the right barrel immediately after firing, and 
the left I called my emergency supply. My rule I say, 
and yet in this most important shoot of all it was so in 
theory only ! I had forgotten everything but the dead 
lioness. I had forgotten the bush contained another 
enemy. 
A snarling quick roar, and almost before I could do 
anything but bring up my rifle and fire without the 
sights, a lion broke from the side of the brake. I 
heard an exclamation behind me, and my cousin’s rifle 
spoke. The bullet grazed the lion’s shoulder only, and 
lashed him to fury. All I can recollect is seeing the 
animal’s muscles contract as he gathered himself for 
a springing charge, and instinct told me the precise 
minute he would take off. My nerves seemed to relax, 
and I tried to hurl myself to one side. There was no 
power of hurling left in me, and I simply fell, not 
backwards nor forwards, but sideways, and that acci- 
dent or piece of luck saved me. For the great cat had 
calculated his distance, and had to spring straight for- 
ward. He had not bargained for a victim slightly to 
the right or left. His weight fell on my legs merely, 
and his claws struck in. Before he had time to turn 
and rend me, almost instantaneously my cousin fired. 
I did not know until later that she did so from a dis- 
tance of some six yards only, having run right up to 
the scene in her resolve to succour me. The top of 
the lion’s head was blown to smithereens, and the 
