luded this shot a miss,
as the distance and light were such that only sheer luck could have
landed the bullet. However, that luck was with us. Later developments
showed that both shots had hit. One cut a foreleg, but without breaking
a bone, and the other had hit the paunch. One was at 380 paces and the
other at 490.

We found blood on the trail, and followed it a hundred yards and over a
small ridge to a wide patch of high grass. It was now dark, the grass
was very high, and the animal probably desperate. The situation did not
look good to us, badly armed as we were. So we returned to camp,
resolved to take up the trail again in the morning.

Every man in camp turned out next day to help beat the grass. C., with
the .405, stayed to direct and protect the men; while I, with the
Springfield, sat down at the head of the ravine. Soon I could hear the
shrieks, rattles, shouts, and whistles of the line of men as they beat
through the grass. Small grass bucks and hares bounded past me; birds
came whirring by. I sat on a little ant hill spying as hard as I could
in all directions. Suddenly the beaters fell to dead silence. Guessing
this as a signal to me that the beast had been seen, I ran to climb a
higher ant hill to the left. From there I discerned the animal plainly,
sneaking along belly to earth, exactly in the manner of a cat after a
sparrow. It was not a woods-leopard, but the plains-leopard, or cheetah,
supposed to be a comparatively harmless beast.

At my shot she gave one spring forward and rolled over into the grass.
The nearest porters yelled, and rushed in. I ran, too, as fast as I
could, but was not able to make myself heard above the row. An instant
later the beast came to its feet with a savage growl and charged the
nearest of the men. She was crippled, and could not move as quickly as
usual, but could hobble along faster than her intended victim could run.
This was a tall and very conceited Kavirondo. He fled, but ran around in
circles in and out of his excited companions. The cheetah followed him,
and him only, with most single-minded purpose.

I dared not shoot while men were in the line of fire even on the other
side of the cheetah, for I knew the high-power bullet would at that
range go right on through, and I fairly split my throat trying to clear
the way. It seemed five minutes, though it was probably only as many
seconds, before I got my chance. It was high time. The cheetah had
reared to strike the