BESET BY LIONS
"NOW, now, you fellows!" interrupted Colonel Narfield's voice from
the vicinity of the blazing fire, "palaver ended. Not another word,
or you'll both be fat-headed in the morning."
Both lads relapsed into silence. They knew perfectly well that with
Colonel Narfield an order was an order in whatever form it was
expressed. For the time being, then, Colin's explanations of his
surprising theory had to be shelved.
Ten minutes later both lads were sound asleep beneath the African
stars. The watcher by the fire heard their regular breathing.
"Not much wrong there," he soliloquised with a smile, "if they can
sleep like that."
The roaring grew louder. He threw another armful of brushwood upon
the fire and carefully wiped the dewy moisture from the barrel and
sights of his rifle. Then he strolled across to where McFrazer was
sitting, painstakingly shredding a plug of Boer tobacco in the palm
of his left hand.
"Aren't you turning in?" he asked.
"Weel, I'm thinkin' not, sir," replied the man. "Them beasties seem
a bit too venturesome the nicht."
Narfield nodded gravely. In spite of his reassurances to the two
lads, he was far from being easy in his mind. He recollected a
story, told him only two days ago, of a lioness breaking through a
ring of fire round a kraal and carrying off a full-grown sheep.
Another disconcerting fact was a knowledge that, at the present rate
of consumption, the pile of firewood was diminishing far too
rapidly.
For two hours the two men waited and watched, while their younger
companions slept. Apparently the lions had decided to maintain a
safe distance. They were roaring at frequent intervals--deep,
prolonged volumes of sound, and yet Colin and Tiny still slept.
Suddenly an antelope, racing like the wind, tore along the mountain
path. For a brief instant the startled creature stopped and gazed at
the blazing fire with consternation plainly written in its large
brown eyes. Then, evidently deeming the terror behind was more
formidable than that in front, it rushed madly between the flames
and the brink of the precipice and vanished in the darkness.
"They'll be showing themselves in a few seconds," prophesied Colonel
Narfield. "Stand by."
But ten minutes passed. An ominous silence prevailed, broken only by
the deep breathing of the sleeping lads and the sharp crackle of the
burning brushwood.
"It calls tae mind that bit in Melville Wood, sir," remarked
McFrazer, in a lower tone than was his wont. "We whur twa companies
strong, you'll remember, sir, an' we were expectin' Fritz in force
come dawn. I'll no complain o' the fight; 'twas the wait as gived
maist o' the lads the creepies."
Colonel Narfield nodded comprehendingly.
"When we'd a-gi'en Fritz a bellyful," continued McFrazer
despondingly, "I found I'd lost ma pooch an' five francs in siller
an a'. I ne'er clappit eyen on it tha' noo----"
He broke off his reminiscences and gripped his rifle. The colonel,
roused to action, followed the direction of the Scotsman's glance.
The tedious wait was at an end.
Silently a huge lion had approached. It was standing with its hind
legs slightly bowed and its forelegs planted stiffly upon a boulder.
In that position, thrown into strong relief against the blackness of
the night by the fire, its bulk was enormously magnified until it
resembled a ruddy, bronzed statue.
The animal was obviously troubled by the sight of the flames. The
fire stood in its path. With its head thrown well back, its enormous
lips bared and showing its cruel, magnificent teeth, the lion gave
no sign of movement except a slow, ponderous motion of its tail.
Having apparently weighed the risks, the king of beasts came to the
conclusion that it was safe to follow the spoor of the antelope
between the flames and the brink of the chasm.
Throwing back his maned head still further, the lion roared. It was
an intimation to his companions that they could rejoin him, for
quickly two full-grown lionesses stood behind him.
The roar, shaking the solid ground, roused the sleepers in double
quick time. Tiny, shaking off his blankets, rose to his feet.
Dazzled by the glare and with the echoes of the terrible cry ringing
in his ears, he was for a moment unable to realise his surroundings.
Quick as lightning, the lion caught sight of the roused lad. The
beast was hungry, and when thoroughly famished a lion will not
hesitate to attack human beings, even when protected by fire. His
eyes closed ever so slightly, his nostrils quivered. These were
infallible signs that the lion contemplated a spring.
Levelling his rifle, Colonel Narfield fired. He was a second or so
too late. Already the lithe, ponderous mass was hurtling through the
air.
The thud of the criss-cross bullet could be distinctly heard as it
struck the lion in the throat. The impetus of the moving mass was
retarded, but not stopped. Falling short of his intended distance,
the stricken lion pitched heavily into the fire, scattering burning
embers far and wide.
Then, with a roar of mingled rage and pain, the lion, with a
convulsive movement, leapt from the flames. Partly blinded, the
infuriated animal appeared to have no other object in view than to
make for Tiny Desmond, who, still partially encumbered with his
blankets, was flattening himself against the wall of rock.
Before Herbert Narfield could fire a second time, and McFrazer was
unable to fire at all owing to the danger of hitting his master, the
lion hurled the former aside.
The colonel staggered backwards for half-a-dozen yards and subsided
ungracefully, while his rifle, flying in a different direction, fell
almost at Colin Sinclair's feet.
The lion was down again, but rallying for a final spring upon the
supposed cause of his wound--the luckless Tiny.
In a trice, and almost automatically, Colin seized the colonel's
rifle, and, without waiting to see if there were a cartridge in the
breech, pressed the trigger.
Fortunately the weapon was loaded. The bullet, fired at less than
ten feet range, hit the lion just behind the left shoulder. With a
yelp the lion turned to deal with its latest assailant, and fell
quivering upon the ground, shot through the heart.
"Look out, sir!" shouted McFrazer, at the same time firing an
apparently ineffectual shot.
The warning was a timely one, for one of the lionesses, rendered
desperate by the death of her mate, was bounding rapidly towards the
still prostrate man.
Yet, in her fury, the lioness was not lacking in cunning. Keeping
the abandoned motor-car between her and McFrazer, she rapidly
covered the distance between her and the fire, which, owing to being
scattered by the lion's leap, was dying down and emitting clouds of
smoke.
Colonel Narfield had already realised his danger and that of the
whole party. At all costs the fire had to be made an effectual
barrier. Rapidly unscrewing the cap of the petrol tin that lay
within his reach, he hurled the tin into the centre of the wide
circle of sizzling embers.
The result exceeded all expectations. With a hollow report, the
contents of the tin exploded. Flames twenty feet in height leapt
into the air. The heat was so terrific that the four men had to
shield their eyes. Rivulets of flaming petrol spread in all
directions. It was a barrier through which nothing endowed with life
could possibly pass and survive.
The fierce flames had effectually scared both lionesses. All danger
in that direction was now passed, but another peril rose to take its
place. The steadily spreading petrol threatened to trap the men in
the hollow in the tremendous wall of rock.
All they could do was to back as far as possible and wait. There was
no chance of skirting the fire. Already the flames were licking the
cliff at two points fifty yards apart.
Rather grimly Colonel Narfield realised that he had overdone things.
He never thought for one moment that a mere tin of petrol would
create such an inferno. It looked like a case of out of the
frying-pan into the fire with a vengeance.
But already the tide of flame was receding, at least on the side
nearest the four men. The terrain sloped ever so slightly in their
direction, and the volatile liquid failed to flow further.
Over the blackened ground minor explosions of petrol-laden air, like
the expiring gasps of a stranded fish, showed that the force of the
conflagration was spent; but on the other side and in the direction
of the edge of the precipice, the petrol was flowing in a sheet of
dull red fire.
As if passing out of a trance, Colin dimly realised that once again
a dire peril had been averted. Scorched by the heat, his eyes
painfully strained, and his throat burning, he was glad to drink in
copious draughts of the now comparatively cool air. And in the midst
of his discomforts he felt a wave of elation. He had bagged his
first lion. There lay the huge carcase, the hair singed and the skin
utterly spoilt; but it was there, a victim to his borrowed rifle,
nevertheless.
A loud detonation rudely interrupted his thoughts. Before he could
account for the explosion McFrazer settled the point.
"Mon!" he exclaimed excitedly, "the car!"
Overtaken by the spreading flames, the motor was blazing furiously.