Zebras, too fat to run, trotted off, and also turned to observe the invaders.
Gazelles did the same, and away off in the distance a few wildebeests went galloping slowly to a safe distance.

They were probably safe at any distance had they only known it, for up to the hour when I cantered forth from Nairobi in quest of lions and rhinos I had not shot at anything for three years, nor hit anything for ten.
Night came on--the black, sudden night of Africa--and we went into camp four miles from Nairobi without ever having heard the welcome roar of a lion.

It was a distinct disappointment.

I remembered the story about the lions that stampeded the zebras through the peaceful gardens of Nairobi only a few nights before--also the report that some man-eaters had been recently partaking of nourishment along the very road upon which we were now camping.

I also remembered hearing that lions had been seen prowling around the edge of the town and that the Athi Plains are a time-honored habitat of the lion family.