When it was finished there didn't seem to be the ghost of a chance of a lion getting in; but at night, as I looked out, it seemed frail indeed.

Some dry grass was piled inside, with blankets spread over it to prevent rustling; and when night came we three, myself and two gunbearers, wormed our way in and then pulled some pieces of brush into the opening after us.

The rifles were sighted on the bait while it was still daylight and at a spot where the expected lion might appear.

Then we waited.
The customary nocturne by birds, beasts and insects began before long, and several times hyenas and jackals came to the bait, but no lions.

The boma was on the edge of a great swamp, miles in extent and a great rendezvous for game of many kinds.