certainly have returned, but fate had otherwise ordained. My health
had been better in the last three days: my fever was leaving me, but I
was, of course, still very weak. It would still be two hours before
the sun would set, and feeling refreshed by a little rest, and able
for further work, I ordered the steeds to be saddled, and went in
search of the lion.

I took John and Carey as after-riders, armed, and a party of the
natives followed up the spoor and led the dogs. The lion had dragged
the remains of poor Hendrick along a native footpath that led up the
river's side. We found fragments of his coat all along the spoor, and
at last the mangled coat itself. About six hundred yards from our camp
a dry river's course joined the Limpopo. At this spot was much cover,
and heaps of dry reeds and trees deposited by the Limpopo in some
great flood. The lion had left the footpath and entered this secluded
spot. I at once felt convinced that we were upon him, and ordered the
natives to make loose the dogs. These walked suspiciously forward on
the spoor, and next minute began to spring about, barking angrily,
with all their hair bristling on their backs: a crash upon the dry
reeds immediately followed--it was the lion bounding away.

Several of the dogs were extremely afraid of him, and kept rushing
continually backwards springing aloft to obtain a view. I now pressed
forward and urged them on; old Argyll and Bles took up his spoor in
gallant style and led on the other dogs. Then commenced a short but
lively and glorious chase, whose conclusion was the only small
satisfaction that I could obtain to answer for the horrors of the
preceding evening. The lion held up the river's bank for a short
distance and took away through some wait-a-bit thorn cover, the best
he could find, but nevertheless open. Here, in two minutes, the dogs