Bwana Simba

Oh, it's a story of a man who never belonged anywhere, whose backyard is the world. A man whose way of life are the dreams of escape for those who want action but never find it.

The man, John Feal Adventurer. Some of my best friends are behind bars. They were born there. Maybe that's why they lived such a long time. They're safer where they are. I'm talking about animals, lions in particular.

I have one lion's story I call Bhuana Simba, like to tell you about it. Me? I'm John Steele, trademarked adventure. I call this yarn Bhuana Simba. It's a title of Native Boys of Africa, give to any white man who shoots a lion fairly and cleanly.

It's a gesture of mild respect. Only when they gave Louis Condon the title of Bhuana Simba, it meant something else. Louis Conlon knew his way around New York City. He boasted he could make or break any political running for any office. The only thing certain about him was he made a million dollars without breaking his back with hard work. I met him in Africa in

Nairobi, Kenya, him and his wife. Louis had run through the farm. He wanted a beautiful life and he looked for her and showed that this and came up with a real doll named Gwen St. Clair. Gwen was a blonde and gorgeous. The one thing that didn't And the hitch at first was that she had more depth than any gal with her looks really needed.

It was a hot night. Just before dinner, when she walked into the cocktail lounge of the colony hotel and spoke to me. Mind if I join you? Well, it would be. Oh, I don't know.