In the morning I instructed four of my people to cross the river, and
bring over a supply of buffalo meat. These men were very reluctant to
go, fearing a lion might have taken possession of the carcase. On
proceeding to reconnoitre from our side, they beheld the majestic
beast they dreaded walk slowly up the opposite bank from the dead
buffalo, and take up a position on the top of the bank under some
shady thorn-trees. I resolved to give him battle, and rode forth with
my double-barrelled Westly Richards rifle, followed by men leading the
dogs. Present, who was one of the party, carried his _roer_, no doubt
to perform wonders. The wind blew up the river; I accordingly held up
to seek a drift, and crossed a short distance above where the buffalo
lay. As we drew near the spot, I observed the lion sitting on the top
of the bank, exactly where he had been seen last by my people.
On my right and within two hundred yards of me, was a very extensive
troop of pallahs, which antelope invariably manage to be in the way
when it is not wanted. On this occasion, however, I succeeded in
preventing my dogs from observing them. When the lion saw us coming,
he overhauled us for a moment, and then slunk back for concealment;
being well to leeward of him I ordered the dogs to be slipped, and
galloped forward. On finding that he was attacked, the lion at first
made a most determined bolt for it, followed by all the dogs at a
racing pace; and when they came up with him he would not bay, but
continued his course down the bank of the river, keeping close in
beside the reeds, growling terribly at the dogs, which kept up an
incessant angry barking.
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