The method that interested me more than any other is one
exceedingly difficult to follow except under favourable
circumstances. I refer to tracking them down afoot. This requires
that your gunbearer should be an expert trailer, for, outside
the fact that following a soft-padded animal over all sorts of
ground is a very difficult thing to do, the hunter should be free
to spy ahead. It is necessary also to possess much patience and
to endure under many disappointments. But on the other hand there
is in this sport a continuous keen thrill to be enjoyed in no
other; and he who single handed tracks down and kills his lion
thus, has well earned the title of shikari-the Hunter.
And the last method of all is to trust to the God of Chance. The
secret of success is to be always ready to take instant advantage
of what the moment offers.
An occasional hunting story is good in itself: and the following
will also serve to illustrate what I have just been saying.
We were after that prize, the greater kudu, and in his pursuit
had penetrated into some very rough country. Our hunting for the
time being was over broad bench, perhaps four or five miles wide,
below a range of mountains. The bench itself broke down in sheer
cliffs some fifteen hundred feet, but one did not appreciate that
fact unless he stood fairly on the edge of the precipice. To all
intents and purposes we were on a rolling grassy plain, with low
hills and cliffs, and a most beautiful little stream running down
it beneath fine trees.
Up to now our hunting had gained us little beside information:
that kudu had occasionally visited the region, that they had not
been there for a month, and that the direction of their departure
had been obscure. So we worked our way down the stream, trying
out the possibilities. Of other game there seemed to be a fair
supply: impalla, hartebeeste, zebra, eland, buffalo, wart-hog,
sing-sing, and giraffe we had seen. I had secured a wonderful
eland and a very fine impalla, and we had had a gorgeous
close-quarters fight with a cheetah.* Now C. had gone out, a
three weeks' journey, carrying to medical attendance a porter
injured in the cheetah fracas. Billy and I were continuing the
hunt alone.
*This animal quite disproved the assertion that cheetahs never
assume the aggressive. He charged repeatedly.
We had marched two hours, and were pitching camp under a single
tree near the edge of the bench. After seeing everything well
under way, I took the Springfield and crossed the stream, which
here ran in a deep canyon. My object was to see if I could get a
sing-sing that had bounded away at our approach. I did not bother
to take a gunbearer, because I did not expect to be gone five
minutes.
The canyon proved unexpectedly deep and rough, and the stream up
to my waist. When I had gained the top, I found grass growing
patchily from six inches to two feet high; and small, scrubby
trees from four to ten feet tall, spaced regularly, but very
scattered. These little trees hardly formed cover, but their
aggregation at sufficient distance limited the view.
The sing-sing had evidently found his way over the edge of the
bench. I turned to go back to camp. A duiker-a small grass
antelope-broke from a little patch of the taller grass, rushed,
head down headlong after their fashion, suddenly changed his
mind, and dashed back again. I stepped forward to see why he had
changed his mind-and ran into two lions!
They were about thirty yards away, and sat there on their
haunches, side by side, staring at me with expressionless yellow
eyes. I stared back. The Springfield is a good little gun, and
three times before I had been forced to shoot lions with it, but
my real "lion gun" with which I had done best work was the 405
Winchester. The Springfield is too light for such game. Also
there were two lions, very close. Also I was quite alone.
As the game stood, it hardly looked like my move; so I held still
and waited. Presently one yawned, they looked at each other,
turned quite leisurely, and began to move away at a walk.
This was a different matter. If I had fired while the two were
facing me, I should probably have had them both to deal with. But
now that their tails were turned toward me, I should very likely
have to do with only the one: at the crack of the rifle the other
would run the way he was headed. So I took a careful bead at the
lioness and let drive.
My aim was to cripple the pelvic bone, but, unfortunately, just
as I fired, the beast wriggled lithely sidewise to pass around a
tuft of grass, so that the bullet inflicted merely a slight flesh
wound on the rump. She whirled like a flash, and as she raised
her head high to locate me, I had time to wish that the
Springfield hit a trifle harder blow. Also I had time to throw
another cartridge in the barrel.
The moment she saw me she dropped her head and charged. She was
thoroughly angry and came very fast. I had just enough time to
steady the gold bead on her chest and to pull trigger.
At the shot, to my great relief, she turned bottom up, and I saw
her tail for an instant above the grass-an almost sure
indication of a bad hit. She thrashed around, and made a
tremendous hullabaloo of snarls and growls.
