EARLY on the following morning the lions were still roaring,
apparently within a hundred yards of the camp. I accordingly took
a Reilly No. 10 double rifle and accompanied by my wife, who was
anxious to see these glorious animals, and who carried my little
Fletcher No. 24, I skirted the outside of the jungle on the high
bank, on the narrow arm of the river. We were not long in finding
traces of the lions. A broad track in the sandy bed of the dried
stream showed where the buffalo had been dragged across to the
thick and impervious green bushes, exactly beneath us on the
margin of the river. A hind quarter of the buffalo, much gnawed,
lay within seven or eight paces of us, among the bushes that had
been trampled down, and the dung of numerous lions lay upon the
open ground near the place of their concealment. We had two
Tokrooris with us, carrying spare rifles, and I felt sure that
the lions were within the bushes of dense nabbuk, which concealed
them as perfectly as though behind a closed curtain. We
approached within three or four yards of this effective screen,
when suddenly we heard the cracking of bones, as the lions
feasted in their den close to us; they would not show themselves,
nor was there any possibility of obtaining a shot; therefore,
after ascending the high bank, and waiting for some time in the
hope that one might emerge to drag away the exposed portion of
the buffalo, we returned to camp.
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