Some remains of the buffalo lay upon my right, and I expected to
find the lion most probably crouching in the thorns somewhere near us.
Having reloaded, I took one of my Reilly No.
10 rifles and listened
attentively for a sound. Presently I heard within a few yards a low
growl. Taher Noor drew his sword and, with his shield before him, he
searched for the lion, while I crept forward toward the sound, which was
again repeated. A low roar, accompanied by a rush in the jungle, showed
us a glimpse of the lion as he bounded off within ten or twelve yards;
but I had no chance to fire. Again the low growl was repeated, and upon
quietly creeping toward the spot I saw a splendid animal crouched upon
the ground amid the withered and broken grass. The lioness lay dying
with the bullet wound in the shoulder. Occasionally in her rage she bit
her own paw violently, and then struck and clawed the ground. A pool of
blood lay by her side. She was about ten yards from us, and I instructed
my men to throw a clod of earth at her (there were no stones), to prove
whether she could rise, while I stood ready with the rifle. She merely
replied with a dull roar, and I terminated her misery by a ball through
the head. She was a beautiful animal. The patch of the bullet was
sticking in the wound.
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