NIGHT WATCHES FOR BIG GAME.

From Sebenane to Thamasetse, both of which are pools of water situated on the old Hunter's road from Francistown to the Zambesi, is, roughly speaking, seventy-five miles. Since the railway has been opened up between Francistown and Buluwayo this road is never used, and is practically deserted. We had started very early in the morning. Just about sunrise I heard a rustle in a bush close to the road, writes Arnold W. Hodson in the Field. Thinking it was only a steinbuck or a duiker, I paid no attention till I heard the animal bound away, when it struck me as making rather a loud noise for so small an antelope. I then caught sight of a yellow object moving parallel to the road and saw it was a lioness.

She bounded into the road and stood looking at me. I had my thick gloves on, as it was very cold, and in consequence rather fumbled pulling off my night protector, which, to save time, I dropped on the road instead of putting into my pocket. My pony, however, began to pirouette round in circles, and before I could get him in hand the lioness bounded away. I galloped after her down the road, but she soon got into the thick bush, where we lost her.

We got to Thamasetse the next day and found old lion spoor, but none fresh. Some days afterward one of the bushmen appeared and reported that the lions were at Thamasetse. I got ready as soon as possible and left that evening with one native. We rode all through the night and arrived at our destination the next afternoon. The lions did not come down to drink till the third night, when in the morning we found their spoor still fresh and damp. We followed it up carefully, going through thorn bush.

We got so close to them once or twice that we could hear them growling (there were five altogether), but the wind changing, they smelled us and made off and although we followed them up for some distance we did not catch sight of them again. Eventually we had to give it up.

The following day we found the spoor of one male and one female, and followed them up for about twelve to fourteen miles. We would come to a place where they had been sleeping, and then, evidently smelling us, we would see how they had become uneasy and gone on a short distance, where they had slept again. This went on till we had gone too far and had to go back.

After this experience I decided to try different tactics, so we dug a hole fifteen yards from the water, in which I intended to watch that night. We made the hole as inconspicuous and secure as possible, and then went around to the outside pools and filled them all up, so that the lions, if they wanted to drink, would have to come down to our water. At sundown I took up my position in the kadiri (the native name for "game hole"). A few hours afterward some sable and roan antelopes came down to drink, and it was a very pretty sight to watch them.

They approach the water carefully and when quite close suddenly bound away. My opinion is that they do this to see if by chance there is a lion in the water hole, because the latter lie up close to the edge of the pool in the shadow of the bank and then spring on the game when it drinks. The mere fact of their bounding away would probably entice the lion forth. The sable antelope seemed to me to be always more cautious than the roan antelope. One of the former, a female, came twelve times to the water and dashed away each time. Of course she may have just smelled me, which would have accounted for it; but I do not think she did, for she eventually drank.

I kept watch night after night, and although I saw plenty of game, no lions came. It was very lonely by oneself in these holes, and the cries of the wolves and jackals are at times very uncanny. One evening at dinner time just as Ranchubu, my servant, was bringing in the soup, one of my little bushmen, a splendid little chap of about 14 and very plucky, who was going down to the water to fill his billy, suddenly commenced yelling with all his might "Newe! Newe!" (leopard, leopard), and then, still shouting, commenced running after it across the veld. I snatched up my rifle and calling to the dogs rushed after him. Luckily, I had on a pair of light running shoes instead of my usual heavy shooting boots, so was easily able to keep up with the others who had joined us.

We must have gone about three miles when we heard the dogs barking and knew that they had bayed the leopard. In a few minutes it would be quite dark, so I put on a fresh spurt to try to get a shot while I could see my sights. The leopard was standing outside a thick patch of bush with the dogs, furiously excited, surrounding him. After several shots and misses, the leopard breaking away each time, a lucky shot struck him in the neck and killed him.

I was glad the matter ended as it did, for I found that two of my previous shots had hit him, and it is seldom that a wounded leopard does not attack his assailant. It is curious that he did not take to a tree, as is nearly always the case when chased by dogs. He was an excellent specimen of a large male. We got back to the camp about 9 p. m., a very jubilant party, and when I had had my supper I again took up my position at the water hole. Plenty of game came that night, but no lions.

The next day was very hot and oppressive, and we felt sure that if lions were anywhere near they would come down that night to drink. I took up my position soon after sundown, and about 12 o'clock, as we had no meat, shot a male sable antelope. He was mortally wounded and ran about sixty yards to die, when, as I discovered, in the morning, he was pounced upon by a lioness and immediately killed. I heard nothing and saw nothing till about 3 a. m., when I heard lap, lap, lap from the pool in front of me.

I knew by the noise the beast was making it could be nothing else but a lion, but for the moment I could see nothing, as it was in the pool, and from the position I could only see an animal as it came in or went out. At last the noise stopped and a shadowy figure came out of the pool. It stood for an instant on the edge silhouetted against the sky. I could not distinguish whether it was a male or a female, but there was no doubt it was a lion, and, as it turned out afterward, a female. I brought my rifle in line with the object and fired. I knew at once I had hit by the terrific growls that followed. I hastily fired again and the brute lay down, all the time growling terribly, so much so that it woke up all the natives in my camp, some distance away.

As soon as it was light I could see her ears moving and fired again, this time hitting her just below the head, which finished the matter. She was a splendid specimen of a lioness. My first shot had hit her in the neck, and the second in the stomach. Her skin was perfect and very glossy. We found the remains of the sable antelope she had killed about eighty yards away, and saw by the spoor that there had been at least six lions around the pool that night.

They had evidently been frightened by the fate of the lioness and had not come down to drink. We followed the spoor of a lion and a lioness. After we had gone a short distance the bushman pointed to a tree and showed us where the lion had been standing up on his hind legs clawing it. He said that the lion was looking around for the lioness I had shot and was very angry at being disturbed from his feast of the sable antelope. We went on mile after mile, but a breeze springing up behind us we had to go back.

That night I again sat up at the water hole, but saw nothing more exciting than a few sable and roan antelopes. The next day it was again very hot, and at night I went down to the hole full of hope that the lions would come back. About 1 a. m. I heard a rustle and saw a leopard going into the pool, walking very quietly and without the least idea of my near presence. She disappeared into the pool, but I could not hear her drinking, as I had heard the lioness two nights before. She soon came out and stood for a few minutes on the bank; I fired and she bounded away. My bullet went through her body and she was found next morning a few yards distant. She was very prettily marked, in good condition.

About 3 a. m. the same morning I could hear some animals at the remains of the sable antelope. The cracking of the bones was one of the most horrible noises I have ever heard. I made sure that the lions had come back, and expected them when they had finished their feed to come down and drink; but they did not come, and in the morning we found that they were jackals that had been eating the meat during the night.

I continued to sit up at nights, but the lions did not return. On the third evening just before going down to the game hole the leader came running into camp and said that he had heard the cries of a dying sable antelope, so we went out as quickly as possible to the place, and on getting near to it heard the peculiar half growl, half bark uttered by wild dogs. There were four or five of them. They did not run away when they saw us, but bounded a few yards and then turned round and looked at us, all the time making a hideous noise. I shot one of them and the rest then decamped. This wild dog appeared to me to be differently marked from one I had shot a few weeks before more to the southwest. These brutes do no end of damage among game, and the bushmen say that sometimes if they are disturbed in their orgies they will attack a man. They certainly look fierce enough to do so.