538 
African Game Trails 
that evening. The Hills had with them as 
beaters and water-carriers half a dozen of 
the Wakamba who were working on their 
farm. It was interesting to watch these 
naked savages, with their filed teeth, their 
heads shaved in curious patterns, and car¬ 
rying for arms little bows and arrows. 
Before lunch we beat a long, low hill. 
Harold Hill was with me; Medlicott and 
Kermit were together. We placed our¬ 
selves, one couple on each side of a narrow 
neck, two-thirds of the way along the crest 
of the hill; and soon after we were in posi¬ 
tion we heard the distant shouts of the beat¬ 
ers as they came toward us, covering the 
crest and the tops of the slopes on both sides. 
It was rather disconcerting to find how 
much better Hill’s eyes were than mine. 
He saw everything first, and it usually took 
some time before he could make me see it. 
In this first drive nothing came my way 
except some mountain reedbuck does, at 
which I did not shoot. But a fine male 
cheetah came to Kermit, and he bowled it 
over in good style as it ran. 
Then the beaters halted, and waited be¬ 
fore resuming their march until the guns 
had gone clear round and established them¬ 
selves at the base of the farther end of the 
hill. This time Kermit, who was a couple 
of hundred yards from me, killed a reed¬ 
buck and a steinbuck. Suddenly Hill said, 
“Lion,” and endeavored to point it out to 
me, as it crept cautiously among the rocks on 
the steep hill-side, a hundred and fifty yards 
away. At first I could not see it; finally I 
thought I did and fired, but, as it proved, 
at a place just above him. However, it 
made him start up, and I immediately put 
the next bullet behind his shoulders; it was 
a fatal shot; but, growling, he struggled 
down the hill, and I fired again and killed 
him. It was not much of a trophy, how¬ 
ever, turning out to be a half-grown male. 
We lunched under a tree, and then ar¬ 
ranged for another beat. There was a 
long, wide valley, or rather a slight depres¬ 
sion in the ground—for it was only three or 
four feet below the general level—in which 
the grass grew tall, as the soil was quite 
wet. It was the scene of Percival’s ad¬ 
venture with the lion that chased him. Hill 
and I stationed ourselves on one side of this 
valley or depression, toward the upper end; 
Pease took Kermit to the opposite side; and 
we waited, our horses some distance behind 
us. The beaters were put in at the lower 
end, formed a line across the valley, and 
beat slowly toward us, making a great noise. 
They were still some distance off when 
Hill saw three lions, which had slunk 
stealthily off ahead of them through the 
grass. I have called the grass tall, but 
this was only by comparison with the short 
grass of the dry plains. In the depression 
or valley it was some three feet high. In 
such grass a lion, which is marvellously 
adept at hiding, can easily conceal itself, 
not merely when lying down, but when ad¬ 
vancing at a crouching gait. If it stands 
erect, however, it can be seen. 
There were two lions near us, one directly 
in our front, a hundred and ten yards off. 
Some seconds passed before Hill could 
make me realize that the dim yellow smear 
in the yellow-brown grass was a lion; and 
then I found such difficulty in getting a 
bead on it that I overshot. However, the 
bullet must have passed very close—indeed, 
I think it just grazed him—for he jumped 
up and faced us, growling savagely. Then, 
his head lowered, he threw his tail straight 
into the air and began to charge. The 
first few steps he took at a trot, and before 
he could start into a gallop I put the soft- 
nosed Winchester bullet in between the 
neck and shoulder. Down he went with 
a roar; the wound was fatal, but I was tak¬ 
ing no chances, and I put two more bullets 
in him. Then we walked toward where Hill 
had already seen another lion—the lioness, 
as it proved. Again he had some difficulty 
in making me see her; but he succeeded, 
and I walked toward her through the long 
grass, repressing the zeal of my two gun- 
bearers, who were stanch, but who showed 
a tendency to walk a little ahead of me 
on each side, instead of a little behind. I 
walked toward her because I could not 
kneel to shoot in grass so tall; and when 
shooting off-hand I like to be fairly close, so 
as to be sure that my bullets go in the right 
place. At sixty yards I could make her out 
clearly, snarling at me as she faced me; 
and I shot her full in the chest. She at once 
performed a series of extraordinary antics, 
tumbling about on her head, just as if she 
were throwing somersaults, first to one side 
and then to the other. I fired again, but 
managed to shoot between the somersaults, 
so to speak, and missed her. The shot 
seemed to bring her to herself, and away 
