hide from the flank of the lion, which was indeed a splendid beast,
and cutting off some lumps of flesh, we toasted and ate them greedily.
Lions' flesh, strange as it may seem, is very good eating, and tastes
more like veal than anything else.

"By the time we had finished our much-needed meal the sun was getting
up, and after a drink of water and a wash at the pool, we started to
try and find Hans, leaving the dead lion to the tender mercies of the
hyænas. Both Mashune and myself were, by constant practice, pretty
good hands at tracking, and we had not much difficulty in following
the Hottentot's spoor, faint as it was. We had gone on in this way for
half-an-hour or so, and were, perhaps, a mile or more from the site
of our camping-place, when we discovered the spoor of a solitary bull
buffalo mixed up with the spoor of Hans, and were able, from various
indications, to make out that he had been tracking the buffalo. At
length we reached a little glade in which there grew a stunted old
mimosa thorn, with a peculiar and overhanging formation of root, under
which a porcupine, or an ant-bear, or some such animal, had hollowed
out a wide-lipped hole. About ten or fifteen paces from this thorn-tree
there was a thick patch of bush.

"'See, Macumazahn! see!' said Mashune, excitedly, as we drew near the
thorn; 'the buffalo has charged him. Look, here he stood to fire at him;
see how firmly he planted his feet upon the earth; there is the mark of
his crooked toe (Hans had one bent toe). Look! here the bull came like
a boulder down the hill, his hoofs turning up the earth like a hoe. Hans
had hit him: he bled as he came; there are the blood spots. It is all
written down there, my father--there upon the earth.'

"'Yes,' I said; 'yes; but _where is Hans?_'