I was scratched with countless thorns, as we broke through the thickest bushes, peering beneath their dark shade, and searching every acre of the ground in vain. In spite of the great heat, we worked from early morning until half an hour before sunset without resting from our work; all to no purpose; there were tracks of lions in all directions, but the animal itself was invisible. It was time to turn towards home, and I led the way through low bush and sandy glades not larger than an ordinary room, all of which were so much alike that it was difficult to decide whether we had examined them before, during the day's hard march. In several places we discovered our own footprints, and thus cheerlessly we sauntered homewards, tired, and somewhat disgusted at the failure.

We were within half a mile of the camp, and I was pushing my way through some dwarf green nabbuk about 5 feet high, when, upon breaking into a small open glade, a large lion with a dark shaggy mane started to its feet from the spot where it had been lying, probably half asleep. I instantly fired, before it had time to bound into the thick jungle, and with tremendous roars it rolled over beneath the dense nabbuk bushes, where at this late hour the shade was almost dark. As quick as possible I fired a second shot, as it was rolling over and over, with extraordinary struggles, and it disappeared in the almost impervious bush, dragging its hind legs in such a manner that I felt sure the spine was broken by the bullet. It was so dark that we could not discern the figure of the animal beneath the thorns, although it was only a few feet distant. Having reloaded, I hardly knew what course to pursue; we had no means of driving the lion from the bush, I therefore examined the ground, and we discovered that the nabbuk into which it had retreated was simply an isolated clump, surrounded by narrow glades of sandy turf. From this asylum I felt sure it could not move, and although it would have been more heroic to have crept into the dark cover and have given it a quietus, or more probably to have received it myself, we came to the wise conclusion that if the lion could not move, it would be there on the following morning, when we should have daylight in our favour.

We returned to camp, and the night passed without disturbance. Directly after sunrise we returned to the spot, and we found the lion still alive, although completely paralysed in the hinder portions. A shot in the centre of the forehead terminated the affair, and the joint efforts of ten men succeeded after great exertion in sliding the carcase upon three inclined poles from the ground to the saddle, while the camel was kneeling in a slight hollow, which the people had scraped away for the purpose.

I had no means of weighing this animal, but it was immensely massive, and would according to my estimation have exceeded 500 lbs.

The accounts published respecting the character of lions differ to such a degree that incidents which are considered natural in one portion of Africa may be regarded as incredible in other districts; there can be little doubt that the character of the animal is influenced by the conditions of its surroundings, which renders it extremely difficult to write a comprehensive account, that will embrace the entire family of lions throughout the world. Roualeyn Gordon Cumming gave a terrible description of a night attack upon his camp, when a lion bounded over the thorn fence, and seizing a sleeping servant from beneath his blanket close to the camp fire, carried him off into the surrounding darkness, and deliberately devoured every portion, excepting one leg, which was found on the following morning, bitten off at the knee-joint. This was the more extraordinary, as another man was at the same time asleep under the blanket with the unfortunate victim; this courageous fellow snatched a heavy firebrand from the pile, and beat the lion on the head in the endeavour to save his friend. Instead of relinquishing its prey, the lion dragged the man only a short distance, and commenced its meal so immediately that the cracking of bones could be heard throughout the night.

In southern Africa a night attack by lions upon the oxen belonging to the waggons is by no means uncommon, in books published concerning expeditions to that country, but in nine years' experience of camp life in Africa, both equatorial and to 14 degrees north of the equator, I have never even heard of any actual depredation committed by lions upon a camp or upon a night's bivouac; the nearest approach was the threatening nocturnal visit already described, where no actual damage was inflicted.

There is an instinct natural to all animals which gives them due warning whether man approaches them with hostile intent, and there can be no doubt that every wild animal possesses this discriminating power, and would be influenced according to circumstances. My own experience has led me to an opinion that the lion is not so dangerous as the tiger, although, if wounded and followed up, there cannot be a more formidable antagonist.

Upon several occasions I have seen lions close to me when I have had no opportunity of shooting, and they have invariably passed on without the slightest signs of angry feeling. I was riding along a very desolate path, and a lioness, followed by five nearly full-grown young ones, walked quietly from the jungle, and they crossed within a few yards of my horse's head, apparently without fear or evil disposition. I well remember, at the close of a long march we halted beneath a large tree, which I considered would form an agreeable shade for our tent. I gave my rifle to a servant, who deposited it against the tree, preparatory to my dismounting, when a lioness emerged from the bushes, and walked unconcernedly through our party, within only a few feet of the startled horses. She disappeared without having condescended to increase her pace.

Upon another occasion I had fired the grass, which had left a perfectly clean surface after the blaze. The night was bright moonlight, and I was standing in front of the tent door, when a large, maned lion and a lioness crossed the open space within 10 or 12 yards of my position, and stood for a few moments regarding the white tent; they passed slowly forward, but had disappeared before I had time to return with a rifle.

I once saw a wounded lion decline a challenge from a single hunter. It is possible that a tiger might have behaved in the same manner, but it would be dangerous to allow the opportunity. I had taken a stroll in the hope of obtaining a shot at large antelopes, to procure flesh for camp, and I was attended by only one Arab, a Hamran hunter armed with his customary sword and shield. Having a peculiar confidence in the accuracy of a two-grooved single rifle of small bore, I took no other, and we walked cautiously through the jungle, expecting to meet some animal that would supply the necessary food. We had not walked half a mile when we emerged upon a narrow glade about 80 yards in length, surrounded by thick bush. At one end of this secluded and shady spot an immense lion was lying asleep upon the ground, about 70 yards distant, on the verge of the dense nabbuk.