Blix wasn't a particularly gifted writer, but this book is 300 pages worth of various ways he almost died. And according to Beryl Markham: "The book to those who knew him is a monument of understatement. In it he has made molehills out of all the mountains he has climbed, and passed off as incidents true stories that a less modest man might enlarge to bloodcurdling sagas."
This excerpt sums it up, I think:
The situation was undeniably difficult. It would have been suicide to creep right up to the lion among the thick thorn bushes, but, on the other hand, a wounded animal cannot be left to its fate.
Then I proposed to Neil that he should climb up into the tall tree on the far side of the lion’s place of refuge and see if he could get a sight of the lion from it. Like the Boer he was, he went up without hesitation, but he had not got half-way to the top before the lion was after him. There were a few rather nasty seconds. The beast’s claws were not six inches beneath his feet when I fired my first shot. The bullet hit the lion in the breast, but did not kill him. Then he turned on me like a madly sputtering giant rocket. The bullet from my second barrel entered his mouth at a distance of five feet, and he rolled over dead at my feet.
“Well, my dear Cooper,” I said, “what about your bow and arrows now?”
“Hm!” Cooper replied, as he wiped the sweat from his forehead, “I think the bow and arrows had better stay where they are. It’s good enough fun with a rifle. And quite sporting enough.”