I've been on two African Lion safaris. On the first, I was a spectator. On the second, I was the shooter. I heard the roars of lions the night before each adventure-and the piercing cry of hyenas.

Side note:The damn hyenas willpull you from your tent and eat the boots off your feet!

Anyway, those lion bellowscertainly had a different effect on me when Ibecamethe hunter facing danger. On the first hunt, I casually accepted my place.My state of mind-"fearless". Why? Because I hadexperienced multiple trips with the friend behind the trigger.He was/is a skilled and competent rifle shooter. For some reason I never doubted this man's abilities. I had seenthis individualcharged by a brown bear, a cape buffalo, and a leopard. Nothing seemed to un-nerve him. The man is rock solid in the face of danger! His magic with a rifle is beyond discription-he rarely misses. On the second hunt,little 'ol me set out to test the water. I wanted to see if I could be un-nerved. Of course, therewere/are many ways I could have gone about this. Jumping out of a perfectly good aircraft for example.But, I LIKE TO HUNT W/ A BOWand playing with snakes is/was out of the question!Prior to this hunt, I had the good fortune to kill a leopard, two asian water buffalos, a mt. lion and five black bear-some with a firearm, but most with a bow. I've counted coup on inland griz and Afognak's brown bear. An African lion seemed to be the next logical step.So Then, why did he or I kill a lion? I'm not sure. It seemed like the right thing to do since there wasn't a mountain nearby to climb. Perhaps, it was because folkscontinued totell us we couldn't (at least with a bow, for me, anyway)-or shouldn't! But we did...It was man against beast. Kill or be killed. Who knows? I just needed to do it-so did he.Could it be that simple? I know the money I spent went to one heck of a good cause.

The night before my lion hunt, I rehearsedmy shot. It seemed to be on automatic replay. It looped through my mind. The lions roared nearby and I tossed and turn in my tent. I heard the sound of a jackel pissing on the canvasas I worked my way into a zone. My muscles had the memory. It was my mental discipline that lacked the edge. I had to focus! The shot had to be perfectly broadside or quartering away. I had to dash for my quiver for an immediate followup shot. The backups could not finish the job I started...that was unacceptable! I had to lose the fear. Iexamined that fact that lose of life was possible. But, not unlike the solder before the big battle, I dealt with it. We all die sooner or later. The big question becomes "do we want to die kneeling or standing"? "Focus" I thought...over and over I rehearsed. "Everyone dies, but not everyone lives"-Mel Gibson as William Wallace, Braveheart

Night quickly became morning. I was ready! With bow in hand, I set out after a lion with 4 PHs, a tracker, and a wildlife officer in tow. Mentally, they weren't present and well outside the lines of my zone. At least that's what I remember, especially when the eminent danger scale was on "high". I was there to get a job done and nothing was going to stop me. I was ready...

We approached a hind that had been prepared for me. An impala carass had been tethered to a tree some twenty yards in front of this make shift brush structure. It quickly became the missing bait. Hadthe lions come and gone?Eight, ten, and twelve powered binoculars scanned. One of the PHs spotted a tail flicker inside the blind. Funny, the very same spot I was meant to be. So, our lives crossed...game on!

I took myextra geararound while I maintained a vigil. I was striven to keep the wind in my face. I had all the faith in my camouflage and my stalking skills. I was confident, I could stay invisible. It became a waiting game. There was no way to unleash an arrow through the tightly woven brush blind. Fifty yards of open ground seperated me from my lioness. Her muzzle was red stained from her morning snack,and she was panting heavily under the african heat. She was a beautiful sight to see!

She's up and moving...go, go, go...wait, not too fast! Slow down, move when she moves. STOP! Use the hind as a screen...STOP, she's looking! Hold perfectly still! DON'T MOVE! She's moving again, go! The chase was on. It took several hours.

At thirty eight yards, the lioness crossed quartering away between two thorn bushes.I tripped my release. The arrow was directly on line. It was a perfect shot-had my arrow not been stopped by her shoulder bone as she shifted her weight backwards. The impact of the arrow sweep the lioness off her front feet. She did a major chin plant in the red dirt. She bounced right back to her feet. I'm sure she was puzzled-"what the heck just happened?" She trotted forward. I moved with her and cliped my second arrow onto my string. She turned right around a bush. My arrow was on it's way. She turned her head to face me. We made eye contact. She roared but it was too late. My arrow sliced through her and skipped 50 yards down range. The second arrow snatched her life. She never took another step. I released a third arrow for good measure. Less than sixty seconds elapsed between arrow one and arrow three.

I had a PH come forward shaking a finger at me..."Do you realize what you just did? You ran in front of the guns! Had that lion charged, there was no way we could have protected you!" I shook my finger back at him...I said " yeah, I realize what I just did! I killed a lion while you were back there wetting your pants!" I got a chuckle from the other professional hunters. One said "he's right".

When it was announced "she's dead", I started to cry. I was filled with emotion. I was asked "are you crying because you killed that lion?" I replied "Damn straight! But these are tears of happiness not sadness. I killed a lion with my bow from the ground and can go back to my children. I am relieved they're not orphanes!"

Hunter 59,

There's my account of my lion hunt. Do you feel it was unethical? She dropped in her tracks and the arrow continued to skipped down range. The gun hunter hit his lion too far back and we sat in the blind for two hours listening to it moan. It finally died from a liver shot. He was shooting a 375 HH.

I have seen enough of this world to know that do-do happens, guns kill, and a bow, in the right hands,is extremely effective-PERIOD. It matters notthe size or the dangerous nature of the game. Remember, Davidkilled Goliathwith a rock!

And Lastly, despite the fact that I was in a zone, in retrospect, I was glad I had backups. How many guys wished they had a second or third parachute? It's one thing to be brave. It's another to be stupid!