90 Wild Beasts 



gradually approached, the lioness welcomed him with 

 renewed roarings, and the lion, restless, went and came 

 from the path to her, as if he wished her to keep silence, 

 and then, from the lioness to the path again, as if to say, 

 ' Let the vagabond come ; he will meet his match.' 



" In about an hour, a large lion as black as a wild boar 

 stepped out of the forest and stood on the edge of the 

 clearing in the full moonlight. The lioness raised herself 

 up to go to him, but the lion anticipating her intention, 

 rushed before her, and marched straight towards his ad- 

 versary. With measured steps and slow they approached 

 to within a dozen paces of each other ; their great heads 

 high in air, their tails slowly sweeping down the grass 

 that grew around them. They crouched to the earth ; a 

 moment's pause, and then they bounded with a roar high 

 in air, and rolled upon the ground, locked in their last 

 embrace. 



" Their struggle was long and fearful to the involuntary 

 witness of this midnight duel. The bones of the combat- 

 ants cracked under their powerful jaws, their talons 

 strewed the grass with entrails, and painted it red with 

 blood, and their roarings, now guttural, now sharp and 

 loud, told of their rage and agony. 



" At the beginning of the conflict the lioness crouched 

 low, with her eyes fixed on the gladiators, and all the 

 while the battle raged, manifested, by the slow, cat-like 

 motion of her tail, the pleasure she felt at the spectacle. 

 When the scene closed, and all was still and quiet in the 

 moonlit glade, she cautiously approached the spot, and 

 snuffling at the bodies of her two lovers, walked leisurely 



