256 
A NATURALIST ON THE PROWL. 
a kettle from the hand of a beater, I rushed to within three 
yards of the brute and discharged it at him with all my 
force. It struck him full on the head and must have half- 
stunned him, for he rushed sulkily under the old archway 
again. Then I looked up for my friend. He was reduced 
to ribbons. Shreds of cloth and long strips of skin and 
flesh floated promiscuously upon the wind, which now 
began to howl through the branches of the trees. Madness 
took possession of me. I had fired my last ball, but I 
remembered how Sir Samuel Baker, in the same predica- 
ment, dropped a charging buffalo with a handful of small 
change. So I dived my hand into my pocket. There was 
no money there, only a penknife with a blade at each end. 
This would do. Anything would do. I took a cartridge 
loaded with small shot and drove one blade into it, so that 
the other blade pointed outwards, then putting it into my 
right barrel, I advanced towards the panther. “ Now do 
the same to me. Ha ! Ha ! ” I cried, like an exultant 
maniac. The brute arched his back and prepared to 
spring. Then I fired. When the smoke cleared away, he 
was lying motionless on the ground. One blade and half 
the handle of the penknife stood out of his right eye, the 
other blade was in his brain. Fiercely I said to the men 
