Having determined upon a lion hunt, Captain Cumming, with a few riders, dashed on to the immense plain. As he proceeded, thousands upon thousands of blesboks darkened the ground. “After a ride of some miles, the lion’s roar was heard, and we soon discovered a dead wild bull, newly killed by a lion, and half eaten. His large and striking foot-prints were deeply marked in the sand. We felt convinced the lion was somewhere near us, but before we could track him out, the night came on, and the most furious thunder-storm I ever knew. The most vivid flashes of lightning followed one another in quick succession, accompanied by terrific peals of thunder, and the sky was black as pitch. The whole plain was soon a sheet of water. About midnight, however, we heard the lion roar, about a mile off. We then rose, and saddled our horses. We rode forward towards the lion’s feasting-place. As the light broke upon us, we slackened our pace, and rode slowly up the middle of the vast level plain towards the carcase of the wild beast, with large herds of springbok, blesbok, and quaggas on every side. Suddenly I observed a number of vultures seated on the plain, about a quarter of a mile a-head of us, and close behind them stood a huge lioness, eating a blesbok she had just killed. She was assisted in her repast by about a dozen jackals, which were feasting along with her in the most friendly and confidential manner. Directing my followers’ attention to the spot, I remarked, ‘I see the lion!’ to which they replied, ‘Whar! whar! yah, Almagty, dat is he!’—and instantly wheeling about their horses, they were about to fly. At the same moment the lioness moved off at a rapid pace. I was determined to have a shot at her. The first move was to bring her to bay, and not a second was to be lost. Spurring my good and lively steed, and shouting to my men to follow, I flew across the plain, and soon gained upon her. This was to me,” says the bold hunter, “a joyful moment, and I at once made up my mind that she or I should die. [Illustration]