ROOSEVELT’S EXPERIENCE IN THE JUNGLE. 155 
followed for some distance. Up to this time the trackers had had 
no real difficulty in making it out, but now came the first serious 
check. 
The nullah turned off along the side of a stony ridge,.and, 
instead of going along it, the lion had turned up the hill. The party 
had got the general direction that the lion had been going in, but 
this was no good, as on casting forward in the same line to the bot¬ 
tom of the other side of the ridge where there was some sandy 
ground, they could find no sign of his having passed in that direction. 
Nonplussed the party halted for a few minutes, but Col. Roose¬ 
velt, having tasted blood, could not long restrain his impatience. 
“Another lion,’’ he was heard to mutter, “won’t that be a grand 
climax for the day’s hunt?” 
A MOMENT OF IMPATIENCE. 
Impatiently he strode back and forth while the trackers spent 
some time hunting about, growing less hopeful as time went on. 
A man following a trail by sight certainly has an enormous advan¬ 
tage over a hound hunting it by nose, because time is of no particular 
object to him, and every direction can be tried in turn. After mak¬ 
ing out east forward they went back to the little watercourse, and 
followed that down for some distance, hoping that the lion had 
turned down hill again; but here, too, they were disappointed, and 
gravitated back to where they had first lost the spoor. The trackers 
knew that the lion had not gone straight on, nor had he turned 
back; he must have gone along the top of the ridge and then crossed 
into other stony hills where it was hopeless to try to track him. 
In the meantime Selous, with half a dozen beaters, came up. 
On hearing of what had been done, Selous, who is never defeated, 
said there was a big river-bed further on in the direction in which 
the lion was going. It seemed a very slender chance, as he might 
have turned off anywhere in between, but it was the only one, so 
off all went. 
They were evidently in luck that day, for they had only gone 
about a quarter of a mile when the trackers struck the spoor. The 
lion seemed now to have made up his mind as to his direction, for 
