," said the bush maiden, frowning. "Is he safe,
Daddy?"

"Oh, he's all right," her father answered, smiling. "These chaps know
how to take care of themselves; and the lions know he's master. Watch
them Norah."

Norah was already doing that. The lions prowling round the ring, keeping
wary eyes on their tamer, were called to duty by a sharp crack of the
whip. Growling, they took their respective stations--two on the seats of
chairs, the third standing between them, poised on the two chair backs.
Then they were put through a quick succession of tricks. They jumped
over chairs and ropes and each other; they raced round the ring, taking
hurdles at intervals; they balanced on big wooden balls, and pushed them
along by quick changes of position. Then they leaped through hoops,
ornamented with fluttering strips of paper, and clearly did not care for
the exercise. And all the while their stealthy eyes never left those of
the tamer.

"How do you like it?" asked Mr. Linton.

"It's beastly!" said Norah, with surprising suddenness. "I hate it,
Daddy. Such big, beautiful things, and to make them do silly tricks like
these; just as you'd train a kitten!"

"Well, they're nothing more than big cats," laughed her father.

"I don't care. It's--it's mean, I think. I don't wonder they're cross.
And you can see they are, Daddy. If I was a lion I know I'd want to bite
somebody!"

The lions certainly did seem cross. They growled constantly, and were
slow to obey orders. The whip was always cracking, and once or twice a
big lioness, who was especially sulky, received a sharp cut. The outside
attendants kept close to the cage, armed with long iron bars. Norah
thought, watching them, that they were somewhat uneasy. For herself, she
knew she would be very glad when the lion "turn" was over.

The smaller tricks were finished, and the tamer made ready for the grand
"chariot act." He dragged forward an iron chariot and to it harnessed
the smaller lions with stout straps, coupling the reins to a hook on the
front of the little vehicle. Then he signalled to the lioness to take
her place as driver.

The lioness did not move. She crouched down, watching him with hungry,
savage eyes. The trainer took a step forward, raising his whip.

"You--Queen!" he said sharply.

She growled, not stirring. A sudden movement of the lions behind him
made the trainer glance round quickly.

There was a roar, and a yellow streak cleft the air. A child's voice