FACE TO FACE WITH A LION.
Once more Larry Barlow went back to his duties as a fireman.
For several days nothing out of the ordinary occurred. Of course
there were the usual number of alarms, but none of the fires were of
importance, and in some cases the alarms were false ones.
The life was not without its fun, for one afternoon there was a blaze
in an East Side snuff factory and Larry and his fellow workmen nearly
sneezed themselves to death putting it out.
“Never sneezed so much in my life before,” said Larry to Kate,
afterward. “Thought the roof of my head was coming off.”
“Never mind, Larry,” she answered, with a laugh. “That ought to keep
you from getting catarrh for ten years,” and this answer made him
laugh, too.
Larry waited impatiently for some word from Mary Vern, but none came.
“Perhaps she never got my letter,” he thought, dismally. “Or maybe she
won’t believe me and thinks me a regular tough.”
And he heaved a mountainous sigh that meant a good deal.
One morning about four o’clock the alarm rang for a fire on one of the
avenues. It was in Larry’s watch, so he had no clothing to slip on and
he was ready as soon as anybody to leave the engine house.
It was now growing quite cool and the run to the fire was bracing to
the last degree. But Larry did not mind the air, for his exposure was
making him as tough, physically, as a pine knot.
The fire proved to be in a long row of stores and in a barn-like
structure in the rear.
One of the stores was given over to the sale of birds and small
animals, and the barn-like structure in the rear was devoted to large
wild animals, which were sold to menagerie keepers and circus people.
Only a few days before a vessel from South Africa had brought in a
consignment of lions and other wild beasts, and these were all housed
in the rear structure.
The howling of the wild beasts was fearful to hear, and as the fire
drew closer to them they became frantic and did all in their power to
escape the peril which threatened them.
“This is something out of the ordinary,” said the captain to his men.
“You want to be careful. If one of those wild beasts gets loose he may
take it into his head to chew somebody up.”
The owner of the wild animals was very anxious to save the stock, and
as quickly as he could he brought out cages on trucks, so that the
animals might be taken from the building.
It was perilous work to transfer the animals to the cages, especially
those which were extra frightened.
Larry was working at the front of the stores, but after a while he was
ordered to the roof of one of the buildings. The fire was spreading
here, and the chief wished to cut it off before it leaped an alleyway
in the rear.
As usual it was hot and trying, and some of the firemen were overcome
by the smoke. Larry worked like a beaver until almost exhausted, then
went to the edge of the roof for air.
As he was standing on the edge a stream of water came over the top of
the building, striking him squarely in the back.
Over the edge he went, and it looked as if he must be hurled to the
pavement below.
But he put out his hands, and by pure luck caught hold of a ladder
nailed to the side of the barn-like building in which the wild animals
were caged.
The ladder was burnt away at the bottom, and so there remained nothing
for him to do but to crawl to the top and get on the roof of the animal
building.
The roof was old and shaky, and the whole building should have been
torn down years before.
As our hero moved around he felt something give way beneath him, and
before he could save himself he dropped ten feet or more to the upper
flooring of the barn-like structure.
Here were a number of large cages, the majority of which were empty.
But one cage held a magnificent specimen of the South African lion,
and, on seeing Larry, the lion set up a loud roar of commingled fear
and rage.
“I suppose you’d like to get at me,” thought Larry. “But you shan’t do
it—not if I know myself.”
He started to go past the lion’s cage, but at that instant the monarch
of the forest hurled himself forward with all its strength at the
slatting of the cage.
There was a crack and a crash, and the splinters flew in all
directions. Then out tumbled the lion, and crouched at the very feet of
the young fireman.
There is no denying that Larry was scared. This was truly a situation
for which he had not bargained.
For an instant the lion remained silent, not knowing what to do with
his sudden liberty. He glared ferociously at our hero, in a manner
calculated to make the stoutest heart quail.
Larry did not know what to do. To run seemed out of the question, and
he knew not in what direction to turn.
The building was on fire in several places, and even if he escaped the
lion there was no telling if he could get out alive.
Turning his head he caught sight of a pitchfork resting against the
wall. He grabbed this and with it “charged bayonets” at the monarch of
the forest.
The movement seemed to take the lion by surprise. He swished his tail
ferociously and glared at our hero more cold-bloodedly than ever.
Then he made a mighty leap as if to crush Larry to atoms.
Our hero could not retreat, so he had to stand his ground. But the
pitchfork was in front of him, and he rested the end of the handle
against the wall behind him.
Crash! The lion hit the pitchfork and drove the handle directly through
the boarding behind Larry.
But the tines of the fork entered the lion’s throat and he uttered a
roar of rage, which fairly made Larry’s hair stand upon end.
It did not take the monarch of the forest long to pull himself off the
tines of the fork, and, this done, he prepared to make another leap.
The blood was flowing at a rapid rate, but still the beast was far
from being killed. His eyes seemed to start from their sockets. Could
he have got his jaws upon Larry he would have crushed our hero’s bones
like we crush the shell of an egg.
But the young fireman was on his guard, and again held the pitchfork
ready for use.
Seeing this the lion made a sudden leap to one side.
At once Larry retreated to the other end of the loft.
With a bound the beast came after him.
Larry made one wild lunge, and, by sheer luck, hit the lion again in
the throat.
The blow was a strong one, and the tines of the pitchfork entered at
one side and came out at the other.
The roar of the beast was deafening, and he leaped back suddenly,
carrying the pitchfork with him.
Larry was now practically defenceless.
It took the lion some time to free himself from the pitchfork, and the
loss of blood weakened him greatly.
Looking around Larry saw an opening in which ran a small elevator, used
to raise and lower the cages of the wild animals.
At the risk of being caught in the elevator machinery he leaped into
the opening and tried to descend to the floor below, by means of a rope
hanging in the elevator well.
He had descended but a few feet, when on looking up, he saw the lion
peering down upon him.
A moment later the wounded beast made a leap almost on top of him!