A BRAVE ACT.
Meanwhile Fred Sheldon had become involved in anything but a pleasant
experience.
There might be mistakes ludicrous and otherwise in the case of others,
but when he saw the animal in the lane before him, as revealed by the
rays of the moon, there was no error.
It was the identical lion that had escaped from the menagerie the day
previous, and the beast must have noted the presence of the terrified
lad, who stopped such a short distance from him.
Master Fred was so transfixed that he did not stir for a few seconds,
and then it seemed to him that the best thing he could do was to turn
about and run, and yell with might and main, just as he did some weeks
before when he stepped into a yellow-jackets' nest.
It is hard to understand how the yelling helps a boy when caught in
such a dilemma, but we know from experience that it is easier to
screech at the top of one's voice, as you strike at the insects that
settle about your head, than it is to concentrate all your powers in
the single act of running.
Almost unconsciously, Fred began stepping backward, keeping his gaze
fixed upon the lion as he did so. If the latter was aware of the
stratagem, which is sometimes used with advantage by the African
hunter, he did not immediately seek to thwart it, but continued facing
him, and occasionally swaying his tail, accompanied by low, thunderous
growls.
The boys of the school had learned a great deal of natural history
within the last day or two, and Fred had read about the king of beasts.
He knew that a lion could crouch on his belly, and, with one prodigious
bound, pass over the intervening space.
The lad was afraid the one before him meant to act according to the
instincts of his nature, and he retreated more rapidly, until all
at once he whirled about and ran for dear life, directly toward the
highway.
He did not shout, though, if he had seen any other person, he would
have called for help; but, when he reached the road, he cast a glance
over his shoulder, expecting to feel the horrible claws at the same
instant.
The lion was invisible. Fred could scarcely believe his eyes; but such
was the fact.
"I don't understand him," was the conclusion of the boy, who kept
moving further away, scarcely daring to believe in his own escape even
for a few brief minutes.
Fred had been too thoroughly scared to wish to meet the lion again, but
he wanted to get back to the house that the Misses Perkinpine could be
told of the new danger which threatened them.
"I think they'll be more likely to believe me than night before last,"
said the lad to himself.
But nothing could tempt him to venture along the lane again after such
an experience.
It was easy enough to reach the house by a long detour, but the half
belief that the lion was lurking in the vicinity made the effort
anything but assuring.
However, Fred Sheldon thought it his duty to let his good friends know
the new peril to which they were subject, in the event of venturing out
of doors.
So slow and stealthy was his next approach to the building that nearly
an hour passed before he found himself in the small yard surrounding
the house; but, when once there, he hastened to the front door and gave
such a resounding knock with the old-fashioned brass knocker that it
could have been heard a long distance away, on the still summer night.
It seemed a good while to Fred before the bolt was withdrawn, and Aunt
Annie appeared in her cap and spectacles.
"Oh, it's you, Fred, is it?" she exclaimed with pleasure, when she
recognized the young man who was so welcome at all times. "You are so
late that we had given you up, and were going to retire."
"I started early enough, but it seems to me as if every sort of awful
thing is after us," replied Fred, as he hastily followed the lady into
the dining-room, where the sisters began preparing the meal for which
the visitor, like all urchins of his age, was ready at any time.
"What's the matter now, Freddy?" asked Aunt Lizzie.
"Why, you had a tramp after you night before last, and now you've got a
big, roaring lion."
"A what?" asked the two in amazement, for they had not heard a syllable
of the exciting incident of the day before.
"Why, there's a lion that broke out of the menagerie yesterday, and
they haven't been able to catch him yet."
"Land sakes alive!" gasped Aunt Annie, sinking into a chair and raising
her hands, "what is the world coming to?"
Aunt Lizzie sat down more deliberately, but her pale face and amazed
look showed she was no less agitated.
Fred helped himself to some more of the luscious shortcake and golden
butter and preserves, and feeling the importance of his position
told the story with which our readers are familiar, though it must
be confessed the lad exaggerated somewhat, as perhaps was slightly
excusable under the circumstances.
Still it was not right for him to describe the lion as of the size of
an ordinary elephant, unless he referred to the baby elephant, which
had never been seen in this country at that time.
Nor should he have pictured his run down the lane, with the beast
behind him all the way, snapping at his head, while Fred only saved
himself by his dexterity in dodging him.
There was scarcely any excuse for such hyperbole, though the narrative
was implicitly believed by the ladies, who felt they were in greater
danger than if a score of burglarious tramps were planning to rob them.
"They've offered one hundred dollars to any one who catches the lion
without hurting him," added Fred, as well as he could speak with his
mouth filled with spongy gingerbread.
"A hundred dollars!" exclaimed Aunt Lizzie; "why, he'll kill anybody
who goes near him. If I were a man I wouldn't try to capture him for a
million dollars."
"I'm going to try to catch him," said Fred, in his off-hand fashion, as
though it was a small matter, and then, swallowing enough of the sweet
food to allow him to speak more plainly, he added:
"Lions ain't of much account when you get used to 'em; I'm beginning to
feel as though I'm going to make that hundred dollars."
But the good ladies could not accept this statement as an earnest
one, and they chided their youthful visitor for talking so at random.
Fred thought it best not to insist, and finished his meal without any
further declarations of what he intended to do.
"They've left two persons behind to look after the lion," he said; "one
is named Kincade and the other is Bud Heyland, you know him--the son of
Michael, your hired man."
"Yes; he called here to-day."
"He did. What for?"
"Oh, nothing in particular; he said he heard we had had our silverware
stolen, and he wanted to tell us how sorry he felt and to ask whether
we had any suspicion of who took it."
"He did, eh?" said Fred, half to himself, with a belief that he
understood the real cause of that call.
"I think Bud is getting to be a much better boy than he used to be,"
added Aunt Annie; "he was real sorry for us, and talked real nice. He
said he expected to be at home for two or three days, though he didn't
tell us what for, and he would drop in to see us."
Master Sheldon made no answer to this, but he "had his thoughts," and
he kept them to himself.
The hour was quite advanced, for the days were long, so that the
fastenings of the house were looked to with great care, and Fred went
to the same room he had occupied two nights before, the one immediately
preceding having been spent at home, as he partly expected the return
of his mother.
After saying his prayers and extinguishing the light, he walked to the
rear window and looked out on the solemn scene.
Everything was still, but he had stood thus only for a minute or
two, when in the quiet, he detected a peculiar sound, which puzzled
him at first; but as he listened, he learned that it came from the
smoke-house, a small structure near the wood-house.
Like the residence, it was built of old-fashioned Holland brick, and
was as strong as a modern prison cell.
"Somebody is in there stealing meat," was the conclusion of Fred; "I
wonder who it can be."
He listened a moment longer, and then heard the same kind of growl he
had noticed the day before when standing in front of the lion's cage.
Beyond a doubt the king of beasts was helping himself to such food as
suited him.
In a twinkling Fred Sheldon hurried softly down stairs, cautiously
opened the kitchen door, and looked out and listened.
Yes, he was in there; he could hear him growling and crunching bones,
and evidently enjoying the greatest feast of his life.
"Now, if he don't hear me coming, I'll have him sure," Fred said to
himself, as he began stealing toward the door through which the lion
had passed.