he fence, came in
contact with the bushes and almost tore down our only protection before
a few more bullets finished it. There came a lull for a short time
after this, and we were congratulating ourselves that morning would
soon be dawning, when the lions would slink away, or when the light
would enable us to finish them when without the least warning a huge
form leapt clean over the hedge and landed in the centre of the scherm,
scattering the few remaining embers in all directions.

A second spring, and before either of us could shoot, the lion had
pounced upon Inyati, and had him down upon the ground beneath him,
shaking the poor fellow like a terrier shakes a rat. Mad with rage I
sent bullet after bullet into the brute's head and body till the click
of the hammer of my Winchester showed the magazine was empty, and the
lion rolled over dead, with Inyati still in its mighty grip, and to all
appearance dead also.

Then I must have gone berserk mad. I remember cramming the magazine
full again, and throwing aside the bush that blocked the entrance, I
stepped out among the lions.

I can never understand why I was not killed instantly; but not a lion
reached me, and at close range I fired shot after shot in the bright
moonlight, and lion after lion fell, till but two were left; and as
morning dawned these slunk away, leaving me alone with my dead.

Then I came back to the scherm, my mad fit of rage over, and nothing
but grief, and a sorrow too deep for words to express, left in my
heart. The huge lion lay right across the poor boy's body, still
gripping his crushed shoulder in its mighty jaws; but now I saw that in
spite of his terrible injuries Inyati was not dead, though he was dying
even as I came back to him. Strong as I was, no strength of mine could
have freed him from the grip of those terrible jaws, and as I struggled
to do so, his beseeching glance stopped me. I knelt down beside him.

"Finished, master! finished," he whispered, "yet we have made a good
fight and you, master, will win. Straight north now! Bury the little
gun with me, master. It may serve me who knows? And take thou the blue
stone, and this my armlet, it may help . . . master, master,
I go. . . ."

And with his eyes fixed upon me, he died; that brave heart, that had
served me so well.

I was stupefied with the blow that had fallen upon me, and lay for an
hour or more as one stunned.

Once or twice the craven thought came upon me to use a