The Guinea & The Darkness
by Mike Schoby (From Petersen's Hunting Magazine March 2012)
I woke up from a solid sleep. I wasn’t sure what woke me, but something had. Lying in the darkness, eyes peering at the roof, not moving a muscle, I listened intently to…nothing. All was graveyard-quiet in the African night. I reached for the flashlight hanging from the corner of my cot. The beam illuminated the white veil of mosquito net and surrounding thatched walls. Everything seemed in place. My shotgun was next to the cot; my safari boots placed next to it. But something had definitely brought me out of slumber. Then I heard it, low and guttural, floating across the river—a lion’s rumbling call... .
It sends shivers down your spine even behind steel bars in a zoo. But this wasn’t a zoo; it was wild Africa. In fact, it was very wild Africa, with a long and storied past. We were within walking distance of the Tsavo River and had visited the infamous bridge that very afternoon. Perhaps we had awakened a ghost.