100 THE LOG OF A TIMBER CRUISER 
for my self-control it was but a few seconds before 
the lioness, who had been creeping nearer, stopped, 
lowered her head, and with a snarl sprang up and 
forward. As she rose I shoved the pistol in her face 
and pulled the trigger. A welcome report followed 
and as her body struck me and we came to the ground 
together I remember thinking mirthlessly: 
‘‘Well, if I missed that chance I deserve what’s 
coming.”’ 
I arose at once, hastily, still grasping my pistol, 
but the lioness remained where she had fallen. My 
one lucky shot, entering the mouth, had blown the 
top of her head off. I examined the magazine of 
my revolver and found that it was empty. Then I 
began to be really frightened. 
When, upon returning to camp, I related the ex- 
perience to the others, Bert at once asserted that 
there must have been kittens in the cave I had at- 
tempted to enter. 
‘‘A lion’d never stand up to you,”’ he said, ‘‘un- 
lessn’n she’d got young uns. I’m goin’ down to- 
morrow and get them.’’ 
He was as good as his word, returning next eve- 
ning with two small, fluffy, tawny creatures and the 
skin of the old one, of little value at this time of year. 
The kittens were kept for a short time, but they be- 
came troublesome before long and we killed them. 
As for myself, I took good care after this to keep 
my gun full of cartridges and an extra loaded mag- 
azine in my pocket. 
