LION HUNTING ON THE KAPITI PLAINS 71 
One day we started from the ranch house in good sea¬ 
son for an all-day lion hunt. Besides Kermit and myself, 
there was a fellow-guest, Medlicott, and not only our host, 
but our hostess and her daughter; and we were joined by 
Percival at lunch, which we took under a great fig-tree, at 
the foot of a high, rocky hill. Percival had with him a little 
mongrel bull-dog, and a Masai ^^boy,’’ a fine, bold-looking 
savage, with a handsome head-dress and the usual formidable 
spear; master, man, and dog evidently all looked upon any 
form of encounter with lions simply in the light of a spree. 
After lunch we began to beat down a long donga, or dry 
watercourse—a creek, as we should call it in the Western 
plains country. The watercourse, with low, steep banks, 
wound in curves, and here and there were patches of brush, 
which might contain anything in the shape of lion, chee¬ 
tah, hyena, or wild dog. Soon we came upon lion spoor 
in the sandy bed; first the footprints of a big male, then 
those of a lioness. We walked cautiously along each side of 
the donga, the horses following close behind so that if the 
lion were missed we could gallop after him and round him 
up on the plain. The dogs—for besides the little bull, we 
had a large brindled mongrel named Ben, whose courage 
belied his looks—began to show signs of scenting the lion; 
and we beat out each patch of brush, the natives shouting 
and throwing in stones, while we stood with the rifles where 
we could best command any probable exit. After a couple 
of false alarms the dogs drew toward one patch, their hair 
bristling, and showing such eager excitement that it was 
evident something big was inside; and in a moment one of 
the boys called, ‘"simba” (lion), and pointed with his fin¬ 
ger. It was just across the little ravine, there about four 
