Again the low growl was repeated, and upon quietly creeping toward the spot I saw a splendid animal crouched upon the ground amid the withered and broken grass.

The lioness lay dying with the bullet wound in the shoulder.

Occasionally in her rage she bit her own paw violently, and then struck and clawed the ground.

A pool of blood lay by her side.

She was about ten yards from us, and I instructed my men to throw a clod of earth at her (there were no stones), to prove whether she could rise, while I stood ready with the rifle.