Hillyard might bring down one--perhaps two, if by some miraculous chance he shot a bullet through both forelegs.

But it would make no difference to the herd.

Hillyard pictured them below by the water's edge, their heads lifted, their tails stiffened, waiting in the darkness.

Once the lone, earth-shaking roar of a lion spread from far away, booming over the dark country.

But the herd below never stirred.
It no more feared the lion than it feared the four men on the river bank above.