No doubt in less than another minute Ben Brace and I would have ceased
to live. I had made up my mind that both of us would be torn to
pieces--and certainly this would have been the result had my companion
not been a man of ready resources. But fortunately, he was so, and at
that crisis conceived a means of escape from the danger that threatened
us. Perhaps he had thought of it before. It is most probable he had,
otherwise he would scarce have acted so imprudently as he had done--for
nothing could have been more imprudent than firing at a lion upon an
open plain with nothing but snipe-shot in the gun!
It is likely, however, that Ben had though of his means of retreat
before firing that shot, though what they were I could not imagine. We
were upon the ground, with the thick trunk of a tree between us and the
lion; but of course, that would be no protection since the beast saw us,
and would soon come round to our side. How then were we to retreat?
For my part I believed we should both be killed and devoured.
Ben was of a different opinion, and before I could do more than give
utterance to an exclamation of terror, he had caught me by the legs and
hoisted me high above his shoulders into the air!
"Now, lad," shouted he, "lay hold of the branch and hoist yourself up.
Quick!--quick! or the beast'll be on us."
I at once divined his intention; and, without waiting to make reply, I
seized one of the branches of the dragon-tree, and commenced drawing
myself upward. The branch was just as high as I could reach with my
hands--even when held up in the arms of the tall sailor--and it was no
easy matter to raise my body up to it; but during the voyage I had
learned to climb like a monkey, and, after some twisting and wriggling,
I succeeded in gaining a lodgment among the limbs of the tree.
Meanwhile Ben was as busy as myself in making the ascent. He had
resigned his hold of me, as soon as he perceived that I caught the
branch; and was now using all his energies, and all his craft too, to
get out of the way of the lion. Unfortunately the limbs of the tree
were too high for him to lay hold of, and he was compelled to resort to
a different mode of climbing. Of course, the trunk was by far too thick
for him to get his arms around it and climb by hugging--he might as
readily have hugged a wall. Fortunately, however, the bark was full of
irregularities--little knots and notches, the scars of the old
leaf-marks, that had long ago fallen off, with some larger holes, where,
perhaps, whole branches had been broken off by the wind. The quick eye
of the sailor at once perceived the advantage of these marks--which
would serve him as steps--and kicking off his shoes, he clutched the
trunk both with fingers and toes, and commenced climbing upward like a
cat.
It was sharp work, and he was obliged to take a little time and make it
sure. Had he lost balance and fallen back, he would not have had time
to make a second attempt before the lion should arrive upon the ground;
and, well knowing this, he held on with "teeth and toe-nail."
By good fortune I had now squared myself face downward upon the branch,
and as the collar of Ben's guernsey came within reach of my hand I was
able to give him a help; so that the next moment he succeeded in getting
hold of a limb, and swinging himself into the fork of the tree.
It was a close shave, however; for just as Ben drew his dangling feet
among the branches the lion reached the ground, and, bounding upwards,
struck his paw fiercely against the trunk, causing the bark to fly off
in large pieces. There was not three inches between the tips of his
claws and the soles of Ben's feet as this stroke was given; and had he
succeeded in grasping the ankle of my companion, it would have been the
last bit of climbing poor Brace would ever have made; for the paw of the
lion is like a hand, and he could easily have dragged his victim back to
the ground again. It was a narrow escape, therefore, but as Ben
afterwards remarked, "an inch of a miss was as good as a mile," and the
sequel in this case proved the justice of the adage, for we were now
safe among the branches where the lion could not possibly reach us.
At the time, however, we were far from being satisfied upon this head,
and for a long while entertained no very confident feeling of security.
We both knew that lions cannot climb an ordinary tree. They have not
the power of "hugging" with which some bears are gifted, and of course
cannot ascend in that manner. Neither can they climb as cats do; for
although the lion if neither more nor less than a great cat--the biggest
of all cats--and is furnished with retractile claws, such as cats have,
yet these last are usually so worn and blunted, that the king of beasts
can make but little use of them in attempting to climb a tree. For this
reason, tree-climbing is altogether out of his line, and he does not
make any pretensions to the art; notwithstanding all this, he can rush a
long way up the trunk by the mere strength of his elastic muscles, and
particularly where the bark is rough on the surface, and the trunk large
and firm as was that of the dragon-tree.
No wonder, then, that our apprehensions continued; no wonder they
increased when we saw the fierce brute crouch down at some paces distant
from the trunk, and, spreading out his broad paws, deliberately set
himself for a spring.
Next moment he rushed forward about two lengths of his body, and then,
bounding in a diagonal line, launched himself aloft. He must have
leaped over ten feet in an upward direction--for his fore-paws struck
the tree just under the forking of the branches--but to our great relief
he was not able to retain his hold, and his huge body fell back to the
ground.
He was not discouraged by his failure; and, once more running outward,
he turned and cowered for a second spring. This time he appeared more
determined and certain of success. There was that expression in his
hideous face, combined with the extreme of rage and fury. His lips were
drawn back, and his white teeth and red frothy tongue were displayed in
all their horrid nakedness; a hideous sight to behold. We trembled as
we looked upon it.
Another fierce growl--another rush forward--another bound--and before we
had time to utter a word, we perceived the yellow paw of the lion spread
over the limb of the tree with his grinning muzzle and gleaming teeth
close to our feet! In another instant the brute would have swung his
body up, but my companion's presence of mind did not forsake him at this
crisis. Quick as thought was his action; and, before the lion had time
to raise himself, the keen blade of the sailor's knife had passed twice
through the great paw,--inflicting at each stab a deep and bloody gash.
At the same instant I had drawn the pistol, which I still carried in my
belt, and fired as fair as I could in the face of the monster.
Whether it was the knife or the pistol that produced the desired effect,
I will not undertake to determine; but certainly an effect was produced
by one or the other, or more likely both weapons deserve a share of the
credit. Be this as it may, the effect was instantaneous; for the moment
the shot was fired and the stabs were given, the lion dropped backward,
and ran limping around the trunk of the tree, roaring and screaming in a
voice that might have been heard at the distance of miles!
From the manner in which he limped, it was evident that the wounds given
by the knife were painful to him, and we could perceive by the blood
upon his "countenance" that the shot, small as it was, had torn him
considerably about the face.
For a short time we were in hopes that after such a repulse he might
take himself off, but we soon perceived that our hopes were fallacious;
neither the stabs nor the shot had seriously injured him. They had only
served to render him more furious and vengeful; and after tumbling about
for a while, and angrily biting at his own bleeding paw, he returned
once more to the attack, as before, endeavouring to spring up to the
branches of the tree. I had reloaded the pistol. Ben was again ready
with his blade; and, fixing ourselves firmly on our perch, we awaited
the onset.
Once more the lion bounded upward and launched himself against the
trunk, but to our great joy we saw that he fell far short of his former
leaps. Beyond a doubt his limb was disabled.
Again and again he repeated the attempt, each time falling short as
before. If fury could have availed, he would have succeeded; for he was
now at the height of his rage, and making such a hideous combination of
noises, that we could not hear our own voices when we spoke to each
other.
After several vain essays to reach us, the brute seemed to arrive at the
conviction that the feat was beyond his powers, and he desisted from the
attempt.
But he had no intention of leaving the ground. On the contrary, we saw
that he was determined to make us stand siege, for, to our great
chagrin, we observed him trot a few paces from the trunk of the tree and
crouch down in the grass--evidently with the intention of remaining
there till we should be compelled to come down.