‘Not until he starts chewing your head off, chummy. Now, walk!’ They moved out in open order, Kermit leading, Leon a few paces back and the two Masai coming up behind him, marching shoulder to shoulder with their
‘Excellent,’ Leon encouraged Kermit softly. ‘Keep up that speed and direction. You’re doing fine.’ Within another fifty paces Leon saw the lion lift his head a few inches. The dome of his skull was now visible and he raised his mane in a threatening gesture. It was like a small haystack, dense and black as Hades. Kermit hesitated in mid-stride.
‘Steady, steady. Keep moving!’ Leon cautioned him. They walked on, and now they could see the lion’s eyes under the great bush of the mane. They were cold, yellow and inexorable. Another ten slow paces and the lion growled. It was a low, deep, infinitely menacing sound, like distant summer thunder. It stopped Kermit in his tracks and he turned to face the beast head-on, at the same time starting to bring up the long rifle. That movement, and Kermit’s direct stare, triggered the lion.
‘Look out! He’s going to come,’ Leon said sharply, but the lion was already in full charge, rushing at Kermit, grunting in short staccato bursts like the steam pistons on a speeding locomotive, black mane fully erect with rage, long tail swinging from side to side. He was enormous, and growing bigger as he closed the gap between them with every stride.
‘Shoot him!’ Leon’s voice was lost in the sharp crack of the .303. The bullet, hastily aimed, flew over the lion’s back, and kicked up a spurt of dust two hundred yards behind him. Kermit was quick on the reload. His next shot was low and struck the ground between the beast’s forelegs. The lion kept boring straight in, a yellow blur of speed, grunting with heart-stopping fury, kicking up dust and slashing his tail.
Sweet Christ! Leon thought. It’s going to get him down! He swung up the Holland focusing all his mental and physical powers on the great maned head and the open grunting jaws. He was only barely conscious of his forefinger tightening on the front trigger. The instant before the lion crashed his full 550-pound body weight into Kermit’s chest at forty miles an hour, Kermit fired his third shot.
The muzzle of the .303 Lee-Enfield was almost touching the shiny black button of the lion’s nose. The light bullet struck the very tip of the snout and lanced through into the brain. The tan body turned slack and flabby as a sack of chaff. Kermit hurled himself aside at the last instant and the lion piled up in a heap on the spot where he had been standing. He stared down at it, his hands shaking, breath sobbing in his throat. Sweat trickled into his eyes.
‘Shoot him again,’ Leon shouted, but Kermit’s legs gave way under him and he sat down. Leon ran up and stood over the lion. At point-blank range he shot him through the heart. Then he turned back to where Kermit was sitting with his head between his knees. ‘Are you okay, chum?’ he asked, with deep concern.
Slowly Kermit raised his head and stared at him as though he was a stranger. He shook his head in confusion. Leon sat beside him and put a muscular arm around his shoulders. ‘Easy does it, chum. You did a great job. You stood to the charge. You never broke. You stood there and shot him down like a hero. If your daddy had been here he would have been proud of you.’
Kermit’s eyes cleared. He took a deep breath and then he said huskily, ‘Do you think so?’
‘I damn well know so,’ Leon said, with utter conviction.
‘You didn’t shoot, did you?’ Kermit was still as unsteady as a long-distance runner regaining his breath after a hard race.
‘No, I didn’t. You killed him yourself, without any help from me,’ Leon assured him.
Kermit did not speak again but sat staring quietly at the magnificent body of the lion. Leon remained at his side. Manyoro and Loikot started to circle them in a shuffling, stiff-legged, hopping and leaping dance.
‘They’re about to perform the lion dance in your honour,’ Leon explained.
Manyoro began to sing. His voice was powerful and true.
After each line they sprang high with the ease of birds taking to flight and Loikot came in with the refrain. When the song ended they went to the dead lion and dipped their fingers in his blood. Then they came back to where Kermit still sat. Manyoro stooped over him and smeared a streak of blood down his forehead.
He stepped back and Loikot took his place in front of Kermit. He also anointed Kermit’s face, painting red stripes down each cheek then, intoned,
