98 
IN AFRICA 
At four-thirty the homeward march was begun. 
At five-thirty two rhinos blocked the path and one 
of them had to be shot. At six we were still several 
miles from camp, with the country wrapped in 
darkness. The water was gone and only one shell 
remained for the big gun. Somewhere ahead 
were miles of thorn scrub in which there might be 
rhinos or buffaloes. Two days before I had killed 
two large buffaloes in the district through which we 
must pass, and there was every likelihood of others 
still being there. At seven we were hopelessly lost 
in a wide stretch of hippo grass, and I had to fire 
a shot in the hope of getting an answering shot 
from camp. In a couple of moments we heard the 
distant shot, and then pressed on toward camp. 
The lion had been carried on ahead while we stopped 
with the rhino, and so the news reached the camp 
before us. A long line of porters came out to greet 
us and a great reception committee was waiting at 
the camp. It was the first lion of the expedition, 
and as such was the signal for great celebration. 
That night there were native dances and songs 
around the big central camp-fire and a wonderful 
display of pagan hilarity. 
It had been a hard day. Fourteen hours without 
food, several hours without water, and miles of 
hard tramping through thorn scrub in the darkness 
and of long, broiling stretches in the blazing sun¬ 
light. It seemed a good price to pay even for a 
lion, but that night, as I finally stretched out on 
my cot, I was conscious from time to time of a glow 
