534 
African Game Trails 
beds; and this though elsewhere they habit¬ 
ually prey on the buffalo. But where zebras 
and hartebeests could be obtained without 
effort, it was evidently not worth their while 
to challenge such formidable quarry. Every 
“kill” I saw was a kongoni or a zebra; 
probably I came across fifty of each. One 
zebra kill, which was not more than twenty- 
four hours old (after the lapse of that time 
the vultures and marabouts, not to speak 
of the hyenas and jackals, leave only the 
bare bones), showed just what had occurred. 
leave some particularly difficult kill—for 
lions lie close. But Sir Alfred knew just 
the right place to go to, and was bound to 
get us lions—and he did. 
One day we started from the ranch house 
in good season for an all-day lion hunt. Be¬ 
sides Kermit and myself, there was a fellow 
guest, a very good fellow, 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. Per- 
The bones were all in place, and the skin 
still on the lower legs and head. The ani¬ 
mal was lying on its belly, the legs spread 
out, the neck vertebra crushed; evidently 
the lion had sprung clean on it, bearing it 
down by his weight while he bit through 
the back of the neck, and the zebra’s legs 
had spread out as the body yielded under 
the lion. One fresh kongoni kill showed 
no marks on the haunches, but a broken 
neck and claw marks on the face and with¬ 
ers; in this case the lion’s hind legs had 
remained on the ground, while with his fore 
paws he grasped the kongoni’s head and 
shoulders, holding it until the teeth splin¬ 
tered the neck bone. 
One or two of our efforts to get lions 
failed, of course; the ravines we beat did 
not contain them, or we failed to make them 
cival had with him a little mongrel bull¬ 
dog, and a Masai “ boy,” afine, 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, cheetah, hy¬ 
ena, 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 
