At length, when even he was beginning to despair, we put up the lioness in a hollow, and fired several shots at her as she hobbled over the opposing slope, one of which hit her, for she rolled over, then picked herself up again, roaring.

As a matter of fact, it came from the Captain's rifle, but Higgs, who, like many an inexperienced person was a jealous sportsman, declared that it was his and we did not think it worth while to contradict him.
On we toiled, and, just beyond the ridge, walked straight into the lioness, sitting up like a great dog, so injured that she could do nothing but snarl hideously and paw at the air.
"Now it is my turn, old lady," ejaculated Higgs, and straightway missed her clean from a distance of five yards.

A second shot was more successful, and she rolled over, dead.
"Come on," said the exultant Professor, "and we'll skin her.

She sat on me, and I mean to sit on her for many a day." So we began the job, although I, who had large experience of this desert, and did not like the appearance of the weather, wished to leave the beast where it lay and get back to the oasis.

It proved long, for I was the only one of us who had any practical knowledge of flaying animals, and in that heat extremely unpleasant.
At length it was done, and, having doubled the hide over a rifle for two of us to carry in turns, we refreshed ourselves from the water-bottles (I even caught the Professor washing the blood off his face and hands with some of the precious fluid).