s foe.

It might have been so many seconds only, but it appeared to Dyke a long
space of time numbered by minutes, as he waited there, expecting the
great animal to crouch and spring, making short work of him before going
on to gorge itself upon the carcass of the eland. There was no
possibility of help coming, for it must be hours before Emson could
return, and then it would be too late.

At last the power to move came back, and Dyke's first thought was to
turn and run, but second thoughts suggested that it would be inviting
the great active beast to spring upon his back, and he remained firm,
never for a moment taking his eyes off those which stared so fixedly
into his, although he was longing to look wildly round for the help that
could not be at hand.

Then his heart gave one great leap, for he saw a quiver run through the
lion, which crouched down, gathering its hind-legs beneath it, and
outstretching its fore; but it was some moments before the boy grasped
the fact that the brute's movement was not for the purpose of making a
tremendous bound, but only to couch, as if it would be easier and more
comfortable to gaze at him in a seated position after making a very long
stalk.

"He can't be hungry!" came to Dyke's brain on the instant, and then boy
and lion sat opposite to each other, gazing hard, till the great cat's
head and mane seemed to swell and swell to gigantic proportions before
the boy's swimming eyes, and they appeared misty, strange, and distant.

Then came another change, for the animal suddenly threw itself over,
stretched, and turned upon its back, patted at the air with its paw, and
gazed at the boy in an upside-down position, its lower jaw uppermost,
but keeping a watchful eye upon him, as if expecting an attack. A
moment or two later it was drawing itself over the sand to where Dyke
sat, and made a quick dab at him with one paw, striking up the sand in a
shower; and as the boy started away, the brute sprang to its feet, shook
itself, and with two or three bounds plumped itself down upon the eland,
and buried its teeth in the dead antelope's throat.

Dyke uttered a hoarse sigh of relief, and rested himself by pressing his
hands down beside him, breathing heavily the while.

It was a temporary reprieve, but he dared not move for fear of drawing
the attention of the lion to him, and clung to the hope that perhaps the
great creature might be content to glut itself upon the game.

The beast wa