"Hell-for-Leather"
Giclée canvas print:
18"x36", edition size 100 s/n
$2000 unframed |
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customers call (941) 484-6164 to place your order. U.S. customers
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Unframed
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The hunter rode as hard as possible,
giving spur and going hell-for leather, but the lioness was catching
up. The hunter had good hands and his mount was well schooled
for galloping lions, probably a polo pony, but it was hard to
compete with the pace of this lioness. As he was twisting and
turning at great speed to outrun and confuse his foe, he was
thinking how foolhardy he had been to get himself into this situation.
Evidently, a situation from which he may not escape.
The lioness was now gaining on him; how
could this be? As she got nearer, he resolved that a charging
lion must be at top speed from the very start. He was getting
all he could from his pony, but it had taken a time for his mount
to get into its stride, and the lioness was almost upon him.
The trail of dust snaked its way across the savannah as the two
zigzagged towards the horizon. Holding the reigns lightly with
his left hand, he reached to un-holster his Colt .45 revolver.
He was riding lions without a rifle, a sport not to be recommended.
The lioness was now along side and level
with his leg; he knew that at any moment it would strike out
at him or the horse. All the time struggling to control his mount,
which was now at full gallop, he tried desperately to aim the
gun at the lioness as she approached on his left flank. Keeping
the pony on a straight course, he leaned across and fired best
he could. Had he hit her? He couldnt tell, even at such
close quarters. As he re-holstered his gun and focused on heading
for safety, the lioness slowed and went behind him, but he continued
to ride hard. He eventually pulled up his mount and looked back
to see the lioness limping and heading for the cover of a reed
bed.
As he recovered his composure he reflected
on what had happened, and his three glaring mistakes. He had
split from the main hunting party to follow three lions, who
had separated from the main pride when the hunters had approached.
He knew where two of them had gone, but had lost sight of one.
Leaving his gun-bearer behind with his rifle (mistake number
one), he galloped off to find her. Unwisely, he dismounted and
walked away from his mount towards some high ground so he could
view the surrounding area (mistake number two). To his surprise,
the lioness sprang into view from low cover, and stood staring
at him angrily, only a few paces away. His heart nearly stopped.
All he had was his colt .45 which would have been useless against
her. He gradually inched his way backwards, never taking his
eye off the lioness, until he reached his mount. He quickly turned
and sprang into the saddle and rode off to a distance of some
thirty yards. When he looked back he was shocked to see that
the lioness was still in the same place, staring at him. His
fear now turned to anger. Anger at himself for being so foolish.
In his self imposed temper he aimed and fired at the lioness,
(mistake number three), which now came on at speed, and the chase
was on.
He now presumed the lioness had limped
into the reed bed as a result of that first shot. Later having
recovered his rifle, he and the other hunters found the lion
and finished her off.
The hunter was Arthur Blayney Percival,
an experienced hunter who had killed several hundred lions during
his time in British East Africa, later Kenya. After the First
World War, he became Game Ranger for the British Colony and although
he never reached the fame of his older brother Philip (Pops in
Hemingways Green Hills of Africa) he was one of
the most respected hunters in Africa at that time.
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