"SEEN ANY MORE LIONS?"
Feeling half stunned, Mark rolled over and over, holding on to his piece
the while, and struggled to his feet from amongst the bushes in which he
had involuntarily sought refuge. His movements took him through a low,
clinging cloud of the smoke of gunpowder, and he heard the rustling of
trampled bushes as what he assumed to be his assailant dashed away. And
now he grasped the fact that his shot had thoroughly roused the whole
camp. The ponies were plunging and dragging at their raw hide lariats,
and the oxen were upon their feet, alarmed in the darkness and about to
break away; but Buck Denham, the English driver, and the Hottentot were
yelling at them, and the black forelopers were adding their shrill cry
as they aided in trying to pacify the beasts.
In the midst of the noise and confusion Mark heard his name loudly
uttered, followed by the words, "Where are you, my lad? Speak up!"
"Here--here," he panted.
"Oh, that's right."
"Not hurt, are you?" cried the doctor, as he grasped him by one arm, and
he awoke to the fact that his breathless father had seized him by the
other.
"Speak, my boy," he cried. "Why don't you speak? Where are you hurt?"
"I don't quite know, father? Not much; but it sprang right at me and
knocked me back amongst the bushes as it tore away."
"What tore away?" cried the doctor. "What did you fire at?"
"I am not quite sure," replied the boy excitedly, "but I think it was a
lion. I saw it creeping up towards the ponies, and as it reared up to
spring upon them I fired."
"Yes," said his father sharply, "and then?"
"I think I must have wounded it, for I heard it dashing away amongst the
bushes."
"Well done, boy," cried his father, patting him on the shoulder. "But
you are sure you are not hurt much?"
"Oh, yes, I am not hurt much, father," said the boy quietly. "The beast
struck me on the shoulder and knocked me right backwards."
"Then he will be clawed, doctor. Let's get him into the waggon, and
have a light."
"Yes, by all means. Who's there?" cried the doctor, in the darkness and
confusion.
"Ay, ay, sir! Me, sir. Off for a lantern," cried the little sailor.
"Here we are sir," cried Bob Bacon. "Me, sir, and Peter Dance."
"That's right, my lads. Take hold of Mr Mark and carry him into the
waggon."
"Oh, Mark," cried another voice, "don't say you are hurt!"
"Well, but I am, old chap," said Mark coolly. "No, I say, don't do
that. Don't be frightened, father, I can walk."
"Are you sure, boy?" said the doctor, who had handed the rifle with
which he had come out armed to the keeper; and as he spoke he passed his
hands over Mark's shoulders, fully expecting to feel the moisture of
blood oozing through his clothes.
"Oh!" shouted the boy, and Sir James winced, uttering a low hissing
sound the while.
"It's got him there," said the doctor, between his teeth.
"Yes, it pricks," said the boy. "It was only when you touched it."
At that moment a light appeared from the direction of the first waggon,
and the big bullock driver joined the party, ready to open his lantern
and cast its rays upon the excited little throng, one of the first faces
seen being that of the black guide, who, spear in hand, seemed to become
one of the most animated, as he stood with his eyes flashing and his
white teeth bared.
"Ahoy! Light's here, sir!" shouted the sailor.
"Bring it here," cried the doctor, and the rays of a second lantern came
dancing through the darkness to help light up the scene.
"Now, my boy," said the doctor, "do you feel faint?"
"No," said Mark sturdily.
"I only want to see how much you are hurt."
"It's getting better now," said the boy cheerfully. "It only aches."
"But I must see where--" began the doctor, only to be checked by a shout
from Mark.
"I say, don't! You are hurting me again. It's a big thorn, and you
pressed it farther in."
"Is it the beast's claw?" whispered Sir James.
"It can't be," replied the doctor. "It's right on the back of his
shoulder where I placed my hand--yes, here it is."
"Oh!" ejaculated Mark again, for the doctor thrust his hand inside the
door of one of the lanterns, to display a great thorn about two inches
long.
"Ah, there's lots more here, sir," cried Bob Bacon. "Mr Mark must have
been knocked right into these bushes."
"Why, Mark," continued the doctor, "hold up your hands. They are all
covered with blood. Scratches. I don't find anything else the matter
with you."
"No," said Mark; "I don't think there is. I say, don't make such a fuss
about it. It makes one look so stupid. I say, father, I'm very sorry I
fired."
"Sorry!" said his father warmly. "Thank heaven, my boy, you are hurt no
worse. The brute, whatever it was, must have been tremendously strong,
and struck you down in its leap."
"Well, it did come at me with a good bang, father, just the same moment
that I fired. Here, who's got my gun?"
"Gun," said a voice, and the Illaka reached over to thrust it into the
boy's hand.
"Oh, thank you," said Mark. "Mustn't lose that. Here, you catch hold,
Dean. Then you think I did right in firing, father?"
"Why, of course, my boy."
"Here, that will do, doctor. I think I am all right."
"Well, really, my boy, I am beginning to think so too. But I will keep
watch the rest of the night with one of the men. You had better go and
lie down now."
"Oh, no," said Mark. "It's my watch, and I am going to finish it."
"And I will come and finish it with you, my boy," said his father.
"But he has finished it," said the doctor, who had hastily pulled out
his watch. "Two o'clock!"
"Then it's my turn," said Dean quickly.
"But I can't let you undertake that task now," said Sir James.
"Let me come, sir, along with Mr Dean, sir," cried the sailor.
"No," said Sir James. "Thank you all the same, my man, I have my rifle
ready loaded. What has become of yours, Mark?"
"I have got it, uncle," cried Dean. "Give me your pouch and the
cartridges, Mark. I want to load."
"But where's your piece, Dean?" said Sir James.
"Mine, uncle--mine? I came out in such a hurry that I forgot all about
it."
"Bah! Well, here's Mark's pouch. Take it and load."
"Yes, uncle," replied the boy hastily. "Why, Mark, I only heard one
shot. Did you fire both barrels?"
"Eh? I don't know. Perhaps I did."
"Well," said the doctor, a few minutes later, as he stood with Sir James
and Dean, "I don't think that there is any occasion to be uneasy about
Mark. He can't be injured, or he wouldn't be so calm. The animals seem
to be settling down again, and that's a sure sign that there is nothing
near to alarm them. What I wonder at is that we heard no sign from the
bullocks--"
"Or from the ponies," said Sir James.
"--Before Mark fired."
"Then I suppose," said Sir James, "that we may all go and lie down till
you rouse us up again, doctor."
"Which I certainly shall if there is any cause."
The alarm had not proved serious enough to interfere with the sleep of
the camp, with one exception, and Mark formed that exception, for during
the second watch either Dean or Mark's father went to the waggon as
quietly as possible to look after the injured lad, and oddly enough had
the same report to give, that Mark was sleeping easily and well, while
as soon as each visit had been paid the boy turned over, exclaiming,
"Bother! Anyone would think the lion had half eaten me. I wish they
would not make such a fuss."
The last time, when Dean was coming off duty, it was to find his
cousin's eyes wide open.
"Oh, you are awake now," he cried. "How are you?"
"Oh, all right. Seen any more lions?"
"No; it's been quite still all the rest of the night."
"Father all right?"
"Yes; he will be here directly. I say, Mark, let's look where you were
hurt before he comes."
But this was not achieved, Sir James darkening the opening of the waggon
tilt just as the neck of his son's shirt was thrown open, to display a
big blackening bruise upon the boy's right shoulder, and further
examination revealed a small hole where a thorn had penetrated, and some
scratches upon the boy's hands.
"Are those claw marks?" said Dean excitedly.
"Pooh! Nonsense!" said a voice which made all look up, to see the
doctor climbing into the waggon.
He too examined the injuries, and exclaimed, "You are sure you saw some
animal about to attack the ponies?"
"Yes, certain," said Mark.
"And you fired at it?"
"Well, yes," said Mark; "you heard me, and came."
"Exactly," said the doctor drily; "but are you sure that the beast,
whatever it was, sprang at you?"
"I saw it rear up as I fired," replied Mark, "and I felt a tremendous
blow on the shoulder. Yes: here's the bruise."
"Yes, my boy," said the doctor quietly, "but that is just such a bruise
as would have been made if you had pulled both triggers of a heavy rifle
at once."
"Well," said Mark quietly, "I have been lying awake almost ever since,
and that's just what I've been fancying. Do you think it was that,
doctor?"
"I feel sure of it, Mark; and what's more, I have been all round the
camp with the Illaka and the two keepers, and even in the moistest place
we can find, there isn't the sign of a lion's spoor."
"Well, that's queer," said Mark, scratching his head. "I don't
understand it. Now I want some breakfast, and I am going to get up."