A EINE CHANCE LOST. 
153 
and stood wondering at the report of the rifle, and 
seeking for the cause of this intrusion. This was a 
grand lion with a shaggy mane; but I was unloaded. 
Keeping my eyes fixed on the beast, I stretched 
my hand back for a spare rifle; the lion remained 
standing, but gazing up wind with his head raised, 
snuffing in the air for a scent of the enemy. No 
rifle was put into my hand. X looked back for an 
instant, and saw my Tokrooris faltering about five 
yards behind me. Hooked daggers at them, gnashing 
my teeth and shaking my fist. They saw the lion, 
and Taher Noor, snatching a rifle from. Hadji Ali, 
was just about to bring it, when Hassan, ashamed, 
ran forward—the lion disappeared at the same 
moment. Never was such a fine chance lost through 
the indecision of the gun-bearers, and X made a vow 
never to carry a single-barrelled rifle again when 
hunting large game. If I had had my dear little 
Fletcher 24, X should have nailed the lion to a 
certainty. However, there was not much time 
for reflection. Where was the first lion ? Some 
remains of the buffalo lay upon my right, and I 
expected to find the lion most probably crouch¬ 
ing in the thorns somewhere near us. Having re¬ 
loaded, X took one of my Reilly No. 10 rifle, and 
listened attentively for a sound. Presently I heard 
within a few yards a low growl. Taher Noor drew 
his sword, and with his shield before him, he searched 
for the lion, while I crept forward towards the 
sound, which was repeated. A loud roar, accom¬ 
panied by a rush in the jungle, showrnd us a glimpse 
of the lion, as he bounded off within ten or twelve 
