The lion is cunning and exceeding fierce. A
flank attack, once we were in the thicket, was as much to be
expected as a frontal charge.
We advanced to the thicket's edge with many precautions. To our
relief we found she had left us a definite trail. B. and I
kneeling took up positions on either side, our rifles ready. F.
and Simba crawled by inches eight or ten feet inside the thicket.
Then, having executed this manoeuvre safely, B. moved up to
protect our rear while I, with Memba Sasa, slid down to join F.
>From this point we moved forward alternately. I would crouch, all
alert, my rifle ready, while F. slipped by me and a few feet
ahead. Then he get organized for battle while I passed him. Memba
Sasa and Simba, game as badgers, their fine eyes gleaming with
excitement, their faces shining, crept along at the rear. B. knelt
outside the thicket, straining his eyes for the slightest
movement either side of the line of our advance. Often these wily
animals will sneak back in a half circle to attack their pursuers
from behind. Two or three of the bolder porters crouched
alongside B., peering eagerly. The rest had quite properly
retired to the safe distance where the horses stood.
We progressed very, very slowly. Every splash of light or mottled
shadow, every clump of bush stems, every fallen log had to be
examined, and then examined again. And how we did strain our eyes
in a vain attempt to penetrate the half lights, the duskinesses
of the closed-in thicket not over fifteen feet away! And then the
movement forward of two feet would bring into our field of vision
an entirely new set of tiny vistas and possible lurking places.
Speaking for myself, I was keyed up to a tremendous tension. I
stared until my eyes ached; every muscle and nerve was taut.
Everything depended on seeing the beast promptly, and firing
quickly. With the manifest advantage of being able to see us, she
would spring to battle fully prepared. A yellow flash and a quick
shot seemed about to size up that situation. Every few moments, I
remember, I surreptitiously held out my hand to see if the
constantly growing excitement and the long-continued strain had
affected its steadiness.
The combination of heat and nervous strain was very exhausting.
The sweat poured from me; and as F. passed me I saw the great
drops standing out on his face. My tongue got dry, my breath came
laboriously. Finally I began to wonder whether physically I
should be able to hold out. We had been crawling, it seemed, for
hours. I dared not look back, but we must have come a good
quarter mile. Finally F. stopped.
"I'm all in for water," he gasped in a whisper.
