338 THE LKJN KILLER. 



cartridge-box hanging to the pommel of my saddle, and hast- 

 ened up the bank to get it. Evils never come alone, says the 

 proverb, and when I searched the plain, I found my horse had 

 disappeared with my spahi, and could nowhere be seen. 



I hunted and hallooed for more than an hour, but 

 there was no mortal thing to be seen on that desolate 

 plain. 



At last, from the elevation of a hill, I saw a mounted Arab 

 giving chase to my horse, that seemed little disposed to sur- 

 render his newly-gained liberty. I followed the course they 

 were taking, and at about sunset I had re-loaded my gun and 

 was again in my saddle, flying back to the ravine where I 

 had left my lion. I reached the scene of the conflict a little 

 before night, and found plenty of blood, but the lion was off. 

 As long as I could make anything out in the twilight, I fol- 

 lowed the trail, and then betook myself to a neighboring douar 

 to pass the night. 



The next morning found me again on the trail, that was 

 colored at every step with blood. But presently it crossed a 

 brook, and then the marks ceased. The soil was dry and 

 rocky, and the country wooded, and so I was obliged to give 

 it up and rejoin my squadron that was to accompany the 

 expedition to Souh Ras. 



A few days after, an Arab runner came into camp, to tell 

 'me that his tribe had found the lion not far from where I had 

 left him, dead on the plain, a feast for the vultures. 



