By 2:30 in the afternoon, we were close and he knew it. As we crept along his spoor, I stood peering into one of countless thick scrub trees. I heard a rustle and then the loudest blood-curling, spine-tingling, soul-moving, ROAR! There he was three feet from me on the other side of the bush. Though I could not see him I could hear him run off. My professional hunter's Jaco and Verner started screaming "He's running, let's go follow him". So there we were running full speed after a lion! We ran full sprint for 1/2-mile and when he turned right into an open stretch of sand, I dropped to one knee and fired-dooof-dust flew under him as I missed. I took a breath, steadied myself and fired again. This time, the 400 gr. safari grade Remington Soft Point hit with a thud. I knew I hit him right away-a clean shot through the lungs. He trotted 30 yards and bedded down in the thickest thorn bush I have ever seen. We had been going for nine hours straight and the last thing we wanted was for him to make it back to the heavy brush wounded, so we ran to the thorn bush reloading as we ran. As Jaco, Verner, Martis and I looked in from 10 feet away we could just make out his outline in the bush. We knew he was still alive as all we heard was a low guttural bbreathing and we knew he could still come for us. We could not tell which way he was facing so I fired one into him and all hell broke loose as he roared and started turning around. Jaco, Verner and I all fired and all hit him and that was that. The bush was so thick the trackers had to cut it down with machetes to get him out. What a hunt, what a trophy, what a day! Next year it's leopard. Like I said Africa is in my blood-only 298 days until I return!