70 
LION-HUNTING 
[CH. Ill 
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, cheetah, hyena, or wild-dog. Soon we 
came upon lion spoor in the sandy bed ; first the foot¬ 
prints 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 44 Simba ” 
(Lion), and pointed with his finger. It was just across 
the little ravine, there about four yards wide and as 
many feet deep; and I shifted my position, peering 
eagerly into the bushes for some moments before I 
caught a glimpse of tawny hide. As it moved, there was 
a call to me to 44 shoot,” for at that distance, if the lion 
charged, there would be scant time to stop it; and I 
fired into what I saw. There was a commotion in the 
bushes, and Kermit fired ; and immediately afterward 
there broke out on the other side, not the hoped-for big 
lion, but two cubs the size of mastiffs. Each was badly 
