I looked back for an instant, and saw my Tokrooris
faltering about five yards behind me.
I looked daggers at them,
gnashing my teeth and shaking my fist. They saw the lion, and
Taher Noor snatching a rifle from Hadji Ali, was just about to
bring it, when Hassan, ashamed, ran forward--the lion disappeared
at the same moment! Never was such a fine chance lost through the
indecision of the gun-bearers! I made a vow never to carry a
single-barrelled rifle again when hunting large game. If I had
had my dear little Fletcher 24, I should have nailed the lion to
a certainty.
However, there was not much time for reflection--where was the
first lion? Some remains of the buffalo lay upon my right, and I
expected to find the lion most probably crouching in the thorns
somewhere near us. Having reloaded, I took one of my Reilly No.
10 rifles and listened attentively for a sound. Presently I heard
within a few yards a low growl. Taher Noor drew his sword, and,
with his shield before him, he searched for the lion, while I
crept forward towards the sound, which was again repeated. A low
roar, accompanied by a rush in the jungle, showed us a glimpse of
the lion, as he bounded off within ten or twelve yards: but I had
no chance to fire. Again the low growl was repeated, and upon
quietly creeping towards the spot, I saw a splendid animal
crouched upon the ground among the withered and broken grass.
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