I Knew Then That There Was No Time
Reload, So Remained Kneeling, Expecting Him To Be
On Me The Next Moment.
Suddenly, just as he
was within a bound of me, he made a quick
turn, to my right.
"Good heavens," I thought,
"he is going for Spooner." I was wrong in this,
however, for like a flash he passed Spooner also,
and with a last tremendous bound seized Bhoota
by the leg and rolled over and over with him for
some yards in the impetus of the rush. Finally
he stood over him and tried to seize him by
the throat, which the brave fellow prevented
by courageously stuffing his left arm right into
the great jaws. Poor Bhoota! By moving at
the critical moment, he had diverted the lion's
attention from me and had drawn the whole
fury of the charge on to himself.
All this, of course, happened in only a second
or two. In the short instant that intervened, I
felt a cartridge thrust into my hand by Spooner's
plucky servant, Imam Din, who had carried the
12-bore all day and who had stuck to me gallantly
throughout the charge; and shoving it in, I
rushed as quickly as I could to Bhoota's rescue.
Meanwhile, Spooner had got there before me and
when I came up actually had his left hand on the
lion's flank, in a vain attempt to push him off
Bhoota's prostrate body and so get at the heavy
rifle which the poor fellow still stoutly clutched.
The lion, however, was so busily engaged
mauling
Bhoota's arm that
he paid not the
slightest attention
to Spooner's efforts.
Unfortunately, as
he was facing
straight in
my direction, I had to move
up in full view
of him, and the
moment I reached
his head, he stopped chewing the arm, though
still holding it in his mouth, and threw himself
back on his haunches, preparing for a spring,
at the same time curling back his lips and
exposing his long tusks in a savage snarl.
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