Therefore we gave the owner of that growl about five minutes to

forget it, and then advanced very cautiously. We soon found where
the objector had halted, and plainly read by the indications

where he had stood for a moment or so, and then moved on. We
slipped along after.

For five hours we hung at the heels of that band of lions, moving
very slowly, perfectlywilling to halt whenever they told us to,

and going forward again only when we became convinced that they
too had gone on. Except for the first half hour, we were never

more than twenty or thirty yards from the nearest lion, and often
much closer. Three or four times I saw slowly gliding yellow

bodies just ahead of me, but in the circumstances it would have
been sheer stark lunacy to have fired. Probably six or eight

times-I did not count-we were commanded to stop, and we did
stop.

It was very exciting work, but the men never faltered. Of course
I went first, in case one of the beasts had the toothache or

otherwise did not play up to our calculations on good nature. One
or the other of the gunbearers was always just behind me. Only

once was any comment made. Kongoni looked very closely into my
face.

"There are very many lions," he remarked doubtfully.
"Very many lions," I agreed, as though assenting to a mere

statement of fact.
Although I am convinced there was no real danger, as long as we

stuck to our plan of campaign, nevertheless it was quite
interesting to be for so long a period so near these great

brutes. They led us for a mile or so along the course of the
stream, sometimes on one side, sometimes on the other. Several

times they emerged into better cover, and even into the open, but
always ducked back into the thick again before we ourselves had

followed their trail to the clear.
At noon we were halted by the usual growl just as we had reached

the edge of the river. So we sat down on the banks and had lunch.
Finally our chance came. The trail led us, for the dozenth time,

from the high grass into the thicket along the river. We ducked
our heads to enter. Memba Sasa, next my shoulder, snapped his

fingers violently. Following the direction of the brown arm that
shot over my shoulder, I strained my eyes into the dimness of the

thicket. At first I could see nothing at all, but at length a
slight motion drew my eye. Then I made out the silhouette of a

lion's head, facing us steadily. One of the rear guard had again
turned to halt us, but this time where he and his surroundings

could be seen.
Luckily I always use a Sheard gold bead sight, and even in the

dimness of the tree-shaded thicket it showed up well. The beast
was only forty yards away, so I fired at his head. He rolled over

without a sound.
We took the usual great precautions in determining the

genuineness of his demise, then carried him into the open.
Strangely enough the bullet had gone so cleanly into his left eye

that it had not even broken the edge of the eyelid; so that when
skinned he did not show a mark. He was a very decent maned lion,

three feet four inches at the shoulder, and nine feet long as he
lay. We found that he had indeed been the rear guard, and that

the rest, on the other side of the thicket, had made off at the
shot. So in spite of the APPARENT danger of the situation, our

calculations had worked out perfectly. Also we had enjoyed a half
day's sport of an intensity quite impossible to be extracted from

any other method of following the lion.
In trying to guess how any particular lions may act, however, you

will find yourself often at fault. The lion is a very intelligent
and crafty beast, and addicted to tricks. If you follow a lion to

a small hill, it is well to go around that hill on the side
opposite to that taken by your quarry. You are quite likely to

meet him for he is clever enough thus to try to get in your rear.
He will lie until you have actually passed him before breaking

off. He will circle ahead, then back to confuse his trail. And
when you catch sight of him in the distance, you would never

suspect that he knew of your presence at all. He saunters slowly,
apparently aimlessly, along pausing often, evidently too bored to

take any interest in life. You wait quite breathlessly for him to
pass behind cover. Then you are going to make a very rapid

advance, and catch his leisurelyretreat. But the moment old Leo
does pass behind the cover, his appearance of idle stroller

vanishes. In a dozen bounds he is gone.
That is what makes lion huntingdelightful. There are some

regions, very near settlements, where it is perhaps justifiable
to poison these beasts. If you are a true sportsman you will

confine your hound-hunting to those districts. Elsewhere, as far
as playing fair with a noble beast is concerned, you may as well

toss a coin to see which you shall take-your pack or a
strychnine bottle.

XIII. ON THE MANAGING OF A SAFARI
We made our way slowly down the river. As the elevation dropped,

the temperature rose. It was very hot indeed during the day, and
in the evening the air was tepid and caressing, and musical with

the hum of insects. We sat about quite comfortably in our
pajamas, and took our fifteen grains of quinine per week against

the fever.
The character of the jungle along the river changed

imperceptibly, the dhum palms crowding out the other trees;
until, at our last camp, were nothing but palms. The wind in them

sounded variously like the patter or the gathering onrush of
rain. On either side the country remained unchanged, however. The

volcanic hills rolled away to the distant ranges. Everywhere grew
sparsely the low thornbrush, opening sometimes into clear plains,

closing sometimes into dense thickets. One morning we awoke to
find that many supposedly sober-minded trees had burst into

blossom fairly over night. They were red, and yellow and white
that before were green, a truly gorgeous sight.

Then we turned sharp to the right and began to ascend a little
tributary brook coming down the wide flats from a cleft in the

hills. This was prettily named the Isiola, and, after the first
mile or so, was not big enough to afford the luxury of a jungle

of its own. Its banks were generally grassy and steep, its
thickets few, and its little trees isolated in parklike spaces.

To either side of it, and almost at its level, stretched plains,
but plains grown with scattered brush and shrubs so that at a

mile or two one's vista was closed. But for all its scant ten
feet of width the Isiola stood upon its dignity as a stream. We

discovered that when we tried to cross. The men floundered
waist-deep on uncertain bottom; the syces received much

unsympathetic comment for their handling of the animals, and we
had to get Billy over by a melodramatic "bridge of life" with B.,

F., myself, and Memba Sasa in the title roles.
Then we pitched camp in the open on the other side, sent the

horses back from the stream until after dark, in fear of the
deadly tsetse fly, and prepared to enjoy a good exploration of

the neighbourhood. Whereupon M'ganga rose up to his gaunt and
terrific height of authority, stretched forth his bony arm at

right angles, and uttered between eight and nine thousand
commands in a high dynamic monotone without a single pause for

breath. These, supplemented by about as many more, resulted in
(a) a bridge across the stream, and (b) a banda.

A banda is a delightful African institution. It springs from
nothing in about two hours, but it takes twenty boys with a

vitriolic M'ganga back of them to bring it about. Some of them
carry huge backloads of grass, or papyrus, or cat-tail rushes, as

the case may be; others lug in poles of various lengths from
where their comrades are cutting them by means of their panga. A

panga, parenthetically, is the safari man's substitute for axe,
shovel, pick, knife, sickle, lawn-mower, hammer, gatling gun,

world's library of classics, higher mathematics, grand opera, and
toothpicks. It looks rather like a machete with a very broad end

and a slight curved back. A good man can do extraordinary things
with it. Indeed, at this moment, two boys are with this