JUNE. 
BEYOND ALL SUCCOUR. 
(THERE was a vicious report as he fired, 
but too late; a shout; a coughing grunt. 
The man was down. No; he was up some- 
how. ‘There was another report close by; a 
crash of splintered, parted reeds; a whirling, 
yellow, black-tuft-tipped tail ; and—silence. 
The lion went on through the high reeds, 
smashing his way without seeking a path, 
galloping a wonderful, long, leaping gallop, 
in which all four feet nearly touched in the 
middle of each bound. 
He had certainly intended to kill the man 
who fired at him—had, in fact, got him over, 
knocked him down like a ninepin; but the 
other man had fired in his face, and—missed. 
And the beast would revile him for—missing. 
Far, far better had he not bungled the job, 
and let the heavy -476 Express bullet finish 
the work the first man’s -275 bullet had 
begun. 
As it was, he hung on his stride, and 
dropped to a trot—a heavy, loose, dog-like 
trot. But this trot fell to a walk, and the 
walk stopped. 
