190 
HUNTING IN THE SOTIK [ch. viii 
lost sight of him, but I marked him lying down behind 
a low grassy ant-hill. Again we dismounted at a dis¬ 
tance of two hundred yards, Tarlton telling me that 
now he was sure to charge. In all East Africa there 
is no man, not even Cuninghame himself, whom I would 
rather have by me than Tarlton, if in difficulties with a 
charging lion ; on this occasion, however, I am glad to 
say that his rifle was badly sighted, and shot altogether 
too low. 
Again I knelt and fired, but the mass of hair on the 
lion made me think he was nearer than he was, and I 
undershot, inflicting a flesh wound that was neither 
crippling nor fatal. He was already grunting savagely 
and tossing his tail erect, with his head held low, and at 
the shot the great sinewy beast came toward us with 
the speed of a greyhound. Tarlton then, very properly, 
fired, for lion-hunting is no child’s play, and it is not 
good to run risks. Ordinarily it is a very mean thing 
to experience joy at a friend’s miss, but this was not an 
ordinary case, and I felt keen delight wdien the bullet 
from the badly sighted rifle missed, striking the ground 
many yards short. I was sighting carefully, from my 
knee, and I knew I had the lion all right, for though 
he galloped at a great pace, he came on steadily—ears 
laid back, and uttering terrific coughing grunts—and 
there was now no question of making allowance for 
distance, nor, as he was out in the open, for the fact 
that he had not before been distinctly visible. The 
bead of my foresight was exactly on the centre of his 
chest as I pressed the trigger, and the bullet went as 
true as if the place had been plotted with dividers. The 
blow brought him up all standing, and he fell forward 
on his head. The soft-nosed Winchester bullet had 
gone straight through the chest cavity, smashing the 
