Invariably, when a friend introduces someone to me and after a few pleasantries someone will say, “Hey Ed! Tell him your lion story.” If they are willing to buy me a couple of drinks and put up with me for more than 10 minutes, I am usually happy to oblige. With that, I guess I’d better tell it now, so here goes. …but you owe me a drink.
I was on a 30-day Safari in Zambia with PH John Coleman in 1986. I booked the hunt through Lew Games of Hunters Limited. Because I was working on the popular sitcom Night Court, I had to start my Safari a full month before the regular safari season started. I only had that window available because that was when the show was on hiatus and would be until the middle of July.

Kicking Off
It was in July that the safari season usually starts, so I had no choice but to go early. I was warned that the camps would not be ready, and we would be hunting in “The Long Grass.” This meant visibility would be limited to practically nonexistent, and that could affect the quality of my experience and trophies. It was my only option, so off I went.
What made it possible for me to go in that early was because that was the time period when the Safari operators went into their concessions to start building the camps, planting gardens, and repairing the air strip and roads. Our destination was Chanjuwzi Camp on the Luangwa River. I don’t know if that is the correct way to spell it, but you get the idea (phonetically).
Anyway, I flew from LAX to Kennedy, Kennedy to Gatwick, Gatwick to Lusaka and took a week to do it. In Lusaka after clearing customs and getting my rifles, I boarded the charter to the concession. About an hour later, I landed at the Wakawaka dirt strip — that had not yet been finished — and was met by P.H. Alistair Gellatly, who oversaw the camp’s construction. He told me that John would be a little late arriving as he was driving from Cape Town. He was stopped at the boarder because of a license mix up. That meant the proper bribes had not been paid.
Alistair was good company, and most of what I shot in the three days with him was for food. He explained that they had over 100 locals working who had not had protein since the Safari season had ended the previous year. In fact, they were in such dire need that when I deplaned at the dirt strip, he told me to get my rifle out and load up.
On the way back to camp, I shot an Impala, Cookson’s Wildebeest, and Puku, all while in dress clothes and Italian loafers. In fact, on that Safari alone I took over 51 game animals in 30 days, a good portion of which was to feed the workers.

The shooting conditions were as difficult as they said they would be, due to the long grass. Shooting for the pot was a good experience and got me accustomed to judging the vitals of the animals through the grass. By the time John arrived three days later, I was prepared for the adjustments that had to be made.
Although I had met John before and had spent time in the states with him, we had never hunted together, so there was the initial ‘getting to know you’ phase. For John, it was to see how I handled myself in the bush and whether I could shoot. Rather quickly, I proved myself capable on all counts.
After about a week, while in camp having lunch, I asked what his policy was on wounded ‘Dangerous Game.’ John said, if that should happen, he would sort it out. I was uncomfortable with that answer. I stated that if I messed up, I wanted to be the one to sort it out.

After a few more days together during dinner, while in conversation, John said that I handled myself well in the bush and that my shooting had been “Spot on.” He then added that on the chance I blew a shot on lion, we would sort it out together. I did, however, have to adhere to his rules which were, don’t shoot unless I tell you to, and don’t shoot me. I assured him that I would follow his instructions to the letter, because if I shot him. I would have had no idea where I am and would be lost forever.
About a week, we found a big fresh lion track in the road. John said it was the big lion we had been looking for and we needed to get a bait up in the area right away. Fortunately, we ran into some zebra. I dispatched one to be hung for bait.

John found a suitable tree and the bait was hung. As night was falling, we headed back to camp. Early the next morning, we went back to check on the bait and found it had been devoured. John said we needed something bigger to keep the lion interested in that area so off we went for Cape Buffalo. Fortunately, we ran into some not far from our bait tree and I took one. We dragged it behind the Toyota, back to the tree and hung it.
When we returned to check the buffalo later that afternoon, we found that it had been pulled down out of the tree and dragged off into the VERY long thick grass. We could see the drag because the grass had not all stood back up from being pulled down flat. John said we would follow the drag into the patch of very long grass to find the lion.
John would lead, I would be off his right shoulder, and the trackers and the camera man would follow. Two of the trackers would also be armed. Once loaded, we started off into the thick patch of brush moving very slowly and quietly. It probably took us 20 minutes to go 20 yards when John stopped and signaled for us to reverse course because of a change in the wind.
Once clear of the brush patch, John said that because of the wind changing direction, we would need to circle the patch and come in from the other side. When we got to the other side to enter the patch it was apparent that we lost the advantage of a trail to follow.
Moving Ahead
We entered the grass blindly moving even slower than before. As we proceeded in to the brush I did not realize that although I was touching distance from John that the ground he was on had a slight slope down and that he was about 18 inches lower than I was. When I could see it, I only saw the top of his head.

We could not have gone more than 10 yards when I parted the grass pushed my rifle muzzle through and saw what was left of the Buffalo. What I am about to describe next only took about 3 seconds to occur, but of course it takes much longer to describe.
I suddenly heard the lion make a sound the likes of which I had never heard before, but it was loud, and it got my attention. At the same time, I felt a little shove on my left side from John. Simultaneously, I threw the rifle to my shoulder, released the safety, and took the slack out of the trigger as the lion stood up in front of me.
He was no more than two feet away, and I could have literally poked him in the eye with my rifle barrel, we were that close. He spun around to put the buffalo between us.

Apparently, he was asleep after having eaten almost the entire buffalo himself. The lion may have been more surprised than I was. Fortunately, he was no longer hungry. He then turned and moved away through the grass. He appeared again about 15 yards away on a termite mound presenting me the classic broad side shot.
The lion then turned and disappeared into the Long Grass. I looked to my left and saw John down on one knee with his rifle shouldered and point forward. I relaxed, took my finger off the trigger, re-engaged the safety, lowered the rifle, and asked John what he was doing. Praying? John stood up ignoring my remark and said, “Did you see the lion?” I replied, “yes.”
He then asked if it was a good lion and I replied that it looked pretty good to me. He then asked why I did not shoot it. At that point, I was more than a bit miffed. “You told me not to shoot — even if a lion is close — unless you tell me to!” John then admitted that even though he was close, because of the thickness of the grass he never saw it. He then explained why he was on one knee. He told me that lions are so fast that when they charge if you stand the tendency is to shoot over them but if you get down you shoot through them. Now you tell me.

Clean Kill
After that, John had the three trackers that accompanied us build a machan in a tree about 60 yards away. We took what was left of the buff and re-hung it in the bait tree.
That evening, while in the tree, we had one last brief glimpse of the lion as he was disappearing in the grass about 100 yards away. I elected not to shoot as it was a going away shot with darkness coming on, and I could not get a good sight picture. He was too noble a beast to not be taken cleanly. He was also such a big lion that if I had shot him, I would not have any reason to ever hunt lion again.

We were getting down to only a week left on my Safari and had not yet encountered another big lion on our side of the river. During a radio chat with P.H. Andre DeCock, he said they had a couple of big cats on his side of the river, and we would be welcome to cross over and stay in his camp, hunt a few days, and see if our luck would change.
With that invitation, we packed up and headed to the river crossing area. Andre brought the pontoon across and ferried us across to his side. As luck would have it. I did get a very nice lion after 3 days, but the real trophy was my story of a close encounter with the king of beasts.
Do you have a harrowing hunting tale to tell? It does not have to be about a lion. Share it in the comment section.




