Their hearts in their mouths, Bob and Joe half expected to see the beast make toward their boma. But it did not.
Long before, the horde of animals that had been drinking had vanished, leaving the pond to take refuge from the king of beasts. The great lion seemed to sense that this had taken place. It uttered a tremendous roar of defiance, then bent its head to drink.
“Good chance for a shot,” murmured Bob, barely making himself heard.
But the naturalists shook their heads.
“One animal is enough to shoot from a boma,” whispered Mr. Lewis. “Somehow I feel that it doesn’t give them a fair chance.”
They watched the lion silently until the latter finally turned and left, making its way stealthily over the carpet of twigs and rotting vines. Then Mr. Holton suggested that they get back to camp.
“That ought to be about the most interesting scene we’ve filmed,” remarked Joe the next morning, as with the others he prepared to leave.
“No doubt you’ll get others when we penetrate deeper into this forest,” said his father.
Late the next afternoon Noko cast uneasy glances up at the distant sky. There was a worried look on his face as he lead the safari farther into the unknown.