I fired, and once more the bullet "klopped." Then the
wildebeest made a swift rush for about sixty yards and collapsed. After
falling it lay perfectly still.

I found that my bullets had struck within two inches of each other. I
cut the carcass open and found that both bullets had pierced the heart,
not alone pierced it, but torn it to literal ribbons of flesh.

The critical reader, especially if he has ever hunted big game, will
find that the foregoing tale contains three improbabilities and a
manifest impossibility. Although the circumstances happened exactly as
related, I do not expect to be believed.

About four miles to the north of our camp, near Ship Mountain, was a
leegte several miles long and of varying breadth. It was more or less
full of reeds; it also contained several extensive patches of low,
dense jungle. This leegte was the main refuge for lions which ranged
over a large extent of surrounding country; every morning their fresh
spoors could be traced to it. But owing to the density of the cover
they were seldom seen. On one occasion a hunt was organized by our
people acting in conjunction with a party of hunters who were camped
about fifteen miles away, and who had lost some oxen through lions,
whose spoor had been followed to one of the jungle-patches.

The marauders had been traced to one end of the cover, so we put in
some beaters between where we supposed them to be and the rest of the
reed-jungle area. The beaters lit a row of small fires along the line
they occupied. Eventually a lion broke to the open, like a driven buck,
close to where one of the hunters was standing. The latter fired, and
hit the lion in the tail.

The effect of the wound was very startling. No longer was the lion a
shrinking fugitive, disgusted at having been disturbed before his meal
of the previous night had been digested, and only anxious to get to
some other hiding place. Now he was a tornado of fury with flaming
eyes, gleaming teeth, and erect mane. Emitting short, coughing
thunder-growls of wrath, he charged straight for the one who had fired
the shot.

The man dropped down his rifle and sprang into the branches of a tree.
The latter was too small to afford complete safety. The lion began
springing at the demoralized hunter, trying to claw him from his
insecure refuge. However, a skilful shot from another member of the
party brought the furious brute to the dust. A surprising sequel to the
incident was this: the ma