long as I live. I thought all was over with me. The leopard, as it
sprang, threw its full weight on my comrade, here. We had just
risen to our feet; and the blow struck me, also, to the ground. I
raised that cry as I fell. I lay there, immovable. I felt the
leopard's paw between my shoulders, and heard its angry growlings;
and I held my breath, expecting every moment to feel its teeth in
my neck.

"I had but one hope, namely, that the beast would carry off my
comrade--who, I was well assured, was dead--to the jungle to devour
him, and would then come back to fetch me. I managed to breathe
once, very quietly, when I felt a movement of the leopard and,
hearing a low sound, guessed that he was licking my comrade's
blood; but slightly as I moved, the leopard noticed it, and stood
straight up again over me. I dared not breathe again, but the time
had come when I felt that I must do so, though I was sure that it
would be the signal for my death.

"Then I knew not what had happened. There was a sharp pain as the
leopard's claws contracted, and then there was a loud roar, and its
weight was removed from me. Then I heard it snarl, as if about to
spring. Then came the sound of a gun, a fall, and a struggle; and
then the sound of another gun. Then I heard your shout, and knew
the beast was dead.

"Now, sir, what can I do for you? Shall I first skin the leopard?"

"I care not for the skin," Stanley said. "It would be of no use to
me."

"Then, with your permission, I will take it off, and keep it as
long as I live, as a remembrance of the narrowest escape that I
ever had."

"Is your comrade dead?"

"Yes," the man replied. "The leopard struck him between the
shoulders as you see; and the force of the blow, and the weight of
the spring, must have killed him instantaneously."

"Then I will take his sword, gun, and cartridges."

So Stanley undid the sword belt, and buckled it round him; put the
bandolier of cartridges over his shoulders; and took up the gun and
reloaded it, while the man was at work skinning the leopard. This
operation the man performed with great speed. It was evidently one
that he had done before. As soon as the beast was flayed, he rolled
up the skin and placed it on his shoulder.

"You are an officer, sir?" he asked.

"No; I am a fugitive."

While he had been watching the man, Stanley had debated over
whether he should confide in him; and thought that, after the
service he had rendered him, he co