he was still watched. In
this way, he was kept a prisoner for more than twenty-four hours, when,
at last, the lion, parched with thirst, went to the pool to drink, and
the Hottentot embraced the opportunity to come down, and run home as
fast as his legs would carry him.

There is a thrilling anecdote told of a settler in the back districts of
the Cape of Good Hope, who was a hunter. Returning, one day, with some
friends, from an excursion, they suddenly came upon two large full-grown
lions. Their horses were already jaded, and the utmost consternation for
a moment seized them. They immediately saw that their only hope of
safety lay in separation. They started in somewhat different directions,
at the top of their speed, holding their rifles on the cock. Those who
were most lightly loaded made good way, but the third was left behind,
and, as his companions disappeared below the brow of a hill, the two
beasts came directly after him. He quickly loosed a deer which was tied
to his saddle, but the prey was not sufficient to distract them from
their purpose. Happily, as is the custom, both barrels of his piece were
loaded with ball--a most timely precaution in that country--and he was a
good marksman. Turning for a moment, he leveled his gun with as much
precision as at such a time he could command, and fired. He waited not
for the result, but again scampered off as quickly as his horse could
carry him, but he heard a deep, short, and outrageous roar. The ball was
afterward found to have entered the animal's breast, and lodged in his
back. His work, however, was but half done. The time he had lost
sufficed to bring the other within reach, and, with a tremendous bound,
he leaped upon the horse's back, lacerating it in a dreadful manner, but
missed his hold, for the poor creature, mad with agony and fear, kicked
with all his force, and hurried forward with increased rapidity. A
second attempt was more successful, and the hunter was shaken from his
seat; the horse, however, again escaped.

The poor fellow gave himself up for lost, but he was a brave man, and he
determined not to die without every attempt to save his life should
fail. Escape he saw was hopeless; so planting himself with the energy of
despair, he put his rifle hastily to his shoulder, and just as the lion
was stooping for his spring, he fired. He was a little too late; the
beast had moved, and the ball did not prove so effective as he hoped. It
entered the side