One day’s hunting, which Mr. Roosevelt describes, shows what the country was like, how full it was of all kinds of animals.  Leaving camp at seven in the morning they were out altogether over fifteen hours.  They were after a lion, so did not look for other game.  They soon passed some zebra, and antelope, but left them alone.  The country was a dry, brown grassland, with few trees, and in some places seems to have looked like our Western prairie.  At noon they sighted three rhinoceros, which they tried to avoid, as they did not wish to shoot them.  Of course, in such circumstances it is necessary to do nothing to disturb the temper of the animals—­ stupid, short-sighted beasts—­or else in their anger or alarm, they will blindly charge the hunter, who then is forced to shoot to save himself from being tossed and gored on that great horn.  There was a hyena disturbing the other game, and as these are savage nuisances, Mr. Roosevelt shot this one at three hundred and fifty paces.  While the porters were taking the skin, he could not help laughing, he says, at finding their party in the center of a great plain, stared at from all sides by enough wild animals to stock a circus.  Vultures were flying overhead.  The three rhinoceros were gazing at them, about half a mile away.  Wildebeest (sometimes called gnu) which look something like the American buffalo or bison, and hartebeest, stood around in a ring, looking on.  Four or five antelope came in closer to see what was happening, and a zebra trotted by, neighing and startling the rhinoceros.

After a rest for luncheon, they went on, looking for lions.  Two wart-hogs jumped up, and Mr. Roosevelt shot the biggest of them.  By this time it was getting late in the afternoon; time for lions to be about.  At last they saw one; a big lioness.  She ran along the bed of a stream, crouching so as not to be seen in the failing light.  The two hunters rode past and would have missed her if one of the native followers had not sighted her a second time.  Then Roosevelt and the other hunter left their horses, and came in close on foot.  This is perhaps as dangerous as any hunting in Africa.  A man must be cool and a good shot to go after lions; sooner or later almost every lion hunter either gets badly hurt or gets killed.

This time all went well; Roosevelt hit her with his first shot; ran in close and finished her.  She weighed over three hundred pounds.  The porters—­much excited, as they always are at the death of a lion—­wished to carry the whole body without skinning it, back to camp.  While they were lashing it to a pole another lion began to growl hungrily.  The night was dark, without a moon, and the work of getting back was hard for the porters, as well as rather terrifying to them.  Lions were grunting all about; twice one of them kept alongside the men as they walked,—­much to their discomfort.  Then a rhinoceros, nearby, let off a series of snorts, like a locomotive.  This did not cheer up the porters to any great degree.  Roosevelt and the other white hunter had trouble to keep them together and to keep on the watch, with their rifles ready to drive off any animals which might attack.