The sun was just warming, and the bees and insects were filling the air
with their sleepy droning sounds. The hillside opposite showed many
little outcrops of rocks so like the hills of our own Western States
that it was somewhat difficult to realize that we were in Africa. For
some reason the delay was long. Then suddenly all four of us
simultaneously saw the same thing. A quarter-mile away and on the
hillside opposite a magnificent lioness came loping easily along through
the grass. She looked very small at that distance, like a toy, and quite
unhurried. Indeed, every few moments she paused to look back in an
annoyed fashion over her shoulder in the direction of the row behind
her.

There was nothing to do but sit tight and wait. The lioness was headed
exactly to cross our front; nor, except at one point, was she at all
likely to deviate. A shallow tributary ravine ran into our own about two
hundred yards away. She might possibly sneak down the bed of this. It
seemed unlikely. The going was bad, and in addition she had no idea as
yet that she had been sighted. Indeed, the chances were that she would
come to a definite stop before making the crossing, in which case we
would get a shot.

"And if she does go down the donga," whispered Hill, "the dogs will
locate her."

Sitting still while things approach is always exciting. This is true of
ducks; but when you multiply ducks by lions it is still more true. We
all crouched very low in the grass. She leapt without hesitation into
the ravine--and did not emerge.

This was a disappointment. We concluded she must have entered the stream
bottom, and were just about to move when Memba Sasa snapped his fingers.
His sharp eyes had discovered her sneaking along, belly to the ground,
like the cat she was. The explanation of this change in her gait was
simple. Our companions had rounded the corner of the hill and were
galloping in plain view a half-mile away. The lioness had caught sight
of them.

She was gliding by, dimly visible, through thick brush seventy yards
distant. Now I could make out a tawny patch that faded while I looked;
now I could merely guess at a melting shadow.

"Stir her up," whispered Hill. "Never mind whether you hit. She'll sneak
away."

At the shot she leaped fully out into the open with a snarl. Promptly I
planted a Springfield bullet in her ribs. She answered slightly to the
hit, but did not shift position. Her head up, her tail thrashing from
side