HUNT AMONG THE NATIVES OF CONSTANTINE. 363 



hurrahs. At the first cry, the lion, if he is not an adult, or 

 the lioness, if she is without young, comes boldly out of the 

 cover and commences the action. 



If by chance it is an old lion that they have roused, he 

 awakens from his lethargic slumbers at the first sound, and 

 yawning, stretches himself like a lazy dog that has been 

 awakened too soon. Then catching the full cry that comes 

 with the morning wind, and knowing from his own experience 

 or by family tradition, the meaning of the tumult, he rubs 

 himself backward and forward against a tree, stopping from 

 time to time to wrinkle his broad forehead, or raise his 

 tawny mane, ever and anon throwing up his head and 

 catching the tainted breeze that stirs among the underwood. 

 Then he slowly quits the cover, and selecting some high flat 

 rock that overlooks the country, and from whence he can 

 watch the tactics of his enemies, he stretches himself down, 

 and examines the approaching hordes that the mists of early 

 morning half conceal, half disclose. 



The Arab who first sees him, calls out, "There he goes." 



The call given by one man in the midst of so many cries 

 and hurrahs, is heard and understood by all. The cries are 

 hushed as if by magic, and thereafter it is only the voice of 

 the lord of the mountain that is heard, overawing all the 

 rest. 



The groups of Arabs who are within sight co me to a halt 

 and gaze in silence upon the king on his throne of rock, and 

 those that are further off, hasten to where they can see him. 

 Then follows a long silence. The Arabs examine their 

 guns, and renew their primings, and the lion with his huge 

 paws combs out his mane, and makes his morning 

 toilette. 



Finally, an Arab comes out from one of the groups, and 

 says : 



" You don't know us, or you would not remain seated there. 



