Part 66

It was not many minutes before the Colonel's actions took on a different trend. For a space he rode straight for the reef. There the smaller black specks of the dogs appeared on the plain in front. No doubt remained now of what the Colonel was up to. The dogs were on the trail of some animal--lion or hyena, there was no telling which--but the scent was hot and the hunt was coming strong.

At one place the dogs made a big bend to the north toward our camp. So the beast, whatever it was, had come to have a look at us in the night.

For the first time then, as they swung back for the rocks, we faintly heard a hound give tongue. It was the only sound in the stillness.

Kearton began tearing up the dry grass that grew in the cracks between the rocks, and piled it in a heap.

"Not yet," said Ulyate; "wait till we're sure."

On came the hunt, following close to the southern base of the reef. The hounds could be heard giving tongue in turn now. The Colonel rode behind, leaning forward and cheering on the dogs.

"He's made for the rocks all right--come on," said Ulyate as, rifle in hand, he started down the cliff.

Kearton touched a match to the pile of grass, and blew on it in his hurry, and as the small flame sprang into life he threw on some green stuff and in a thin blue column the smoke rose up straight into the air.

"That will fetch the boys, all right," he said, and we followed Ulyate down to the plain.

Although the delay in lighting the fire was brief, yet by the time we had reached the base and had mounted the horses, the Colonel, Ulyate, and the dogs had already passed out of sight beyond a farther out-jutting buttress of rock.

We rounded the buttress only to find that the chase had vanished. The almost perpendicular wall of rocks was empty. There was a moment's halt. Then two quick shots rang out, and at once there began a general chorus of baying, yelping dogs, intermingled with the deep, heavy roar of a lion.

The sounds came from somewhere in the thick growth on top of the Reef, so we left the horses and climbed toward the sound. On the plateau the ground was covered with rugged lava blocks, and the scrub and creepers were so dense that when Kearton shouted Ulyate's name the white hunter answered from not more than ten yards away.

"It's a lioness," said Ulyate. "The dogs have got her bayed. Look out! She's just on the other side of that bush. When I got here I found the Colonel seated on his horse, facing the beast and trying to rope her. He didn't even have a knife on him. Why she didn't charge him, I don't know. He couldn't get away over this kind of ground. He told me to call the others and so I fired."

When the cowboys arrived from the distant donga, they came threading their way toward us through the brush, leading their horses. A short consultation was held.

"We've got to shift her," said the Colonel. "Can't do anything with her here. Bring the firecrackers. Bring--there she goes!"

The lioness had decided the issue and had bolted of her own accord. There was a streak of yellow through the bushes, a scrambling of dogs, wild, frightened cries from the approaching camera porters, and the hunt was on once more.

The beast ran to an open cave at the edge of the plateau and crouched there facing the dogs. To maneuver the horses was absolutely out of the question, so the lioness had to be shifted again. For upwards of two hours then, by means of the dogs, firecrackers, and lighting the grass, we drove her from one stronghold to another, from crevasse to crevasse, in trying to force her down off the reef.

The sun rose and the heat commenced. The dogs were feeling the strain of the constant baying. One by one they would seek a spot of shade and lie panting there for a while and then return to the fray. Sounder, being weak from distemper, was the first to give out, but he had done his share of the work. Porters were sent back to camp to bring water. Because the ground was bad and the beast was on the defensive, photography was difficult, but Kearton managed to catch small bits of action here and there, with Ulyate standing by him.

The day advanced and the dogs showed signs of tiring fast, yet the lioness still clung to the stronghold of the rocks. Every means at hand to drive her into the open had been tried time and again without avail. The task began to look hopeless. We had already reached the stage when we saw our resources coming to an end.

"Get a pole," said the Colonel, "and we'll poke a noose over her."

"It won't work," said Loveless. "We've tried that often enough to show it won't work."

"Just the same we'll try it again," replied the Colonel.

Loveless had just started to hunt for the pole when, without warning, the beast gave a quick, savage snarl, scattered the dogs from in front of her, and, dropping down the face of the reef to the plain below, ran straight for the distant donga.

Old John led the chase, with the rest of the dogs trailing along as best they could, and behind them the men and horses, camera porters, saises, and dog-boys went scrambling down the rocks in pursuit.

On the bank of the donga the lioness stopped to fight the ropers. She had run far enough and meant business now, and the hunt came up and halted a short distance away for a breathing spell.

The lioness had taken up her position at the end of a short tongue of land projecting into the donga, so that she was partially protected on three sides. The yelping dogs had quickly surrounded her, but she paid little heed to them now. Crouched by the side of a small thorn bush, she watched every move of the horsemen preparing to advance.

Kearton mounted his camera at one side of the scene, selecting his position with care to obtain the best background and general composition. He shifted about two or three times before he was satisfied.

"Of course there's no telling which way she's going to jump," he explained. "But we might as well get the beginning of it right."