I Was So Breathless After My Run, And
My Arms Were So Shaky, That It Was All I Could
Do
To keep the sight on the fierce-looking target
and I thought to myself, as the rifle barrel
wobbled about,
"If I don't knock him over with
the first shot, he will be out of these bushes and
down on me like greased lightning - and then I
know what to expect." It was a most exciting
moment, but in spite of the risk I would not have
missed it for the world; so, taking as steady an
aim as was possible in the circumstances, I pulled
the trigger. Instantly the shaggy head
disappeared from view, and such a succession of
angry roars and growls came up out of the
bushes that I was fairly startled, and felt keenly
anxious to finish him off before he could charge
out and cover the short distance which separated
us. I therefore fired half a dozen shots into the
bushes at the spot where I imagined he lay, and
soon the growling and commotion ceased, and
all was still. I was confident the brute was
dead, so I called up one of the men to stay and
watch the place, while I again rushed off at full
speed - jumping over such rocks and bushes as
came in my way - to have a shot at a lioness
that was still in sight.
By this time my followers numbered about
thirty men, as when one is hunting in these plains
natives seem to spring from nowhere in the most
mysterious manner, and attach themselves to one
in the hope of obtaining same portion of the
kill.
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