A LION IN THE PATH 141 Miles ahead, amongst the low line of bush, was a small blue excrescence, which one saw for a moment and lost again. On we went, as it seemed, for hours, the hill looking bigger and bigger, yet never appearing to come nearer. Every African traveller knows the exasperating effect of approach to a hill of considerable size, and the false impression the atmosphere gives as to its distance.

For the moment the hill left our minds. The blackamoor suddenly stopped, and I followed suit, as he looked forward, as I thought, somewhat anxiously, and into the bush on the right. Yes, there was movement, but what ? " Zeraf," said the Arab behind me, but he was in error. It was a party of Arabs on camels, slowly wending their way through the bush, as though wishful to escape our notice. " Bad people," said the blackamoor, probably because they did not belong to his village, and came from the hills to the south, or because they were visiting nomad Arabs. So we proceeded ; but right on their tracks, where they probably crossed over the path, came a quite different sight, but which equally claimed our attention.

Quietly strolling across in the line of the Arabs was the first lion I had actually seen. He seemed to be following the trail of the strangers, and only appeared for an instant, about 300 yards away.

But, alas ! the stern rule of the country forbade.

" Officers' Reserve " had been genially forewarned in Khartoum, and nothing short of self-defence would have been held to justify an infraction. So