300 THE LION KILLER. 



CHAPTER XVIII. 



A LION KILLED ON HIS OWN HEARTHSTONE. 



After the encounter I have just narrated, I remained in 

 the Mahouna country quietly waiting for something to bring 

 me into action, and holding a levee every morning under my 

 tent, to hear the reports of the Arabs who were exploring the 

 country. Finally not receiving any further news of lions, I 

 returned to Guelma towards the end of September. 



A long repose of two months followed, when I was again 

 called into the field by the mountaineers. 



On reaching the high plateaux, I found about a foot of 

 snow on all the hills, with the thermometer below zero, and a 

 miserably cold air. Nevertheless, in spite of the blanket of 

 white that covered the land, and the icy wind that glazed 

 the trees, which is not a supportable thing to this kind of 

 animal, if we can believe the naturalists, a lioness had taken 

 up her home on the hills. 



I found her customary path, and watched for her arrival in 

 the evening, having first agreed with the Arabs, that if she 

 came to attack the douar during my absence, they should 

 lio-ht a fire to give me notice. At about ten o'clock, I heard 

 the dogs making a great noise, and in a little while I saw the 

 agreed signal, a*nd left my station to return to the village. 



I arrived only in time to hear the lamentations of an old 

 woman from whom the lioness had taken the only sheep she 

 possessed in the world. She eried like a lunatic, poor old 



