GERARD, THE LION HUNTER 81 



crouched down perfectly flat on the ground, then he 

 crossed his paws in the front of him and pillowed his head 

 upon them. His eye was fixed on me, and his glance 

 never wavered from mine for an instant. He seemed to be 

 wondering what this man could be doing in his kingdom 

 without even recognising his royalty. Five minutes more 

 passed. In the position he had taken up nothing would 

 have been easier for me than to have killed him. 



All of a sudden he rose, and began to be agitated, 

 making a couple of steps forward, then one or two back- 

 wards — to the right, to the left — and moving his tail like 

 a young cat who is getting angry. 



No doubt he could not understand this goat with its 

 cord or this man who kept watching him, but his instinct 

 told him there was some trap. 



Meantime I sat quite still, the gun at my shoulder 

 and my finger on the trigger, following every movement 

 with my eye. One spring, and I should be between his 

 claws. His anxiety increased every moment, and almost 

 infected me. His tail lashed against his sides, his move- 

 ments were more rapid and his eye kindled. 



To hesitate longer would be suicidal. I seized the 

 moment when he turned his left flank towards me, took 

 a steady aim and fired. 



The lion staggered on his legs and uttered a frightful 

 roar, but did not fall. 



I fired my second shot. Then, without looking, for 1 

 was sure I had hit him, I threw down my first gun and 

 seized the second which was lying read)- loaded beside me. 

 When I turned round again the lion had disappeared. I 

 remained motionless, fearing a surprise, and looking round 

 on all sides for a hidden foe. 



I heard the lion roar. He had fled into the bed of the 

 ravine, and was hurrying back to his lair. 



I waited a few minutes more, or perhaps they were 

 only seconds, for one does not measure time accurately in 

 such circumstances. 



E G 



