A LION HUNT IN THE VALLEY OF OURTEN. 391 



lion. I assured them that I was certain that he was still liv- 

 ing, that it would be impossible for us to see him unt il he 

 bounded on one of us, and that as surely as we entered, there 

 would be one man the less to come out. 



The only answer the daring fellows gave, was the casting 

 aside their burnous, and asking me to sit on them until they 

 came back. 



In two minutes I had thrown off every article of clothing 

 that could embarrass me in the bushes. I gave Amar-ben- 

 Sigha my carbine, Bilkassem I armed with the two pistols given 

 to me by the Count de Paris, and my spahi with my gun, 

 with directions to keep it loaded, and follow me step by 

 step. 



After having directed the men to keep in as close a body 

 as the nature of the woods would permit, and having urged 

 Mr. Rodenburgh to retire from a danger, the extent of which 

 he could not estimate, which advice he deigned totally to 

 disregard, we carefully entered the thicket. 



Crouching down like so many blood-hounds, we followed 

 step by step, the red stains, until we reached a little clearing, 

 where all signs of the trail totally disappeared. Each one 

 turned about, searching for some mark to guide us. The 

 night was coming on apace. Minute by minute the task was 

 increasing in danger, and the grim thoughts in our breasts 

 made us work about in the close cover with a breathless care 

 and speed. 



Presently, by the intenseness of his excited grasp, an Arab 

 discharged his musket. The ball sped away without doing 

 any harm, but the sound roused the lion, who roared fiercely 

 in the bushes. 



With the first sound of his voice, the men ran to group 

 themselves around me, all but Amar-ben-Sigha, who either 

 from inexperience or over-confidence in himself, placed his 

 back against a tree six paces distant on our left. 



