Although no sound had preceded its coming, I thought it might be a lion, but feared that it was a hyena.

I fired at the dark, shifting, black shadow and the roar of the big rifle shattered the silence like a clap of unexpected thunder.

Then there was such a dense silence that it seemed to ring in one's ears.
Had I hit or missed?
That could not be decided until daybreak, for it is the height of folly to climb down from a tree to feel the pulse of a wounded lion.
When daybreak came we made an investigation.

Only the mangled remains of the carcass lay below.

Later in the day some members of our party came across the dead body of a hyena lying about a hundred yards from the tree, partly hidden by a little clump of bushes.