"He did not see I was a man, and he did not understand what the long
thing with black legs was that jumped at him; and a lion is big and
strong, but he is a coward about what he does not understand."

"And have you frightened him right away?" asked Dick. "Fancy
frightening away a lion!"

"No," said the Zulu; "only a little way. He is following the waggon
now, crawling softly through the grass; and I am sure it is the one Boss
Jack has shot last night, for there was a mark and blood upon his
forehead. It is a great lion, with no mane; and he is savage and wild,
and will follow the waggon always till he is killed. We must kill that
lion soon."

"An' is he following us up, Muster Gineral?" said Dinny, who had heard
some of the last words.

The Zulu nodded; and Dinny looked from one to the other with such a look
of hopeless dread in his countenance, that even Mr Rogers could not
forbear to smile.

"Sure it's the onsafest place I iver came noigh, sor; and it's not
meself that will stir away from the front of the waggon till that great
baste is killed."

The General's account of his proceedings, and his conversation as a
rule, was not in the plainest of English, so it is more convenient to
give it in ordinary colloquial form; but he was very earnest, and tried
hard to make himself understood.

When Mr Rogers consulted him as to the best means of getting rid of so
unpleasant a follower, the Zulu said that the only way would be to ride
on in front of the waggon, and then suddenly strike off to right or
left, form a wide curve, and ride inward so as to strike the track of
the waggon quite a mile behind.

By this means, the General said, they would probably get a shot at the
monster as he was crawling furtively after the horses, and probably
bring it down.

"It is a risk," said Mr Rogers thoughtfully; "but it will be impossible
for us to go on with an enemy like that always in our wake."

"When do you think he will try to attack us, General?" said Dick.

"When the sun has gone down, Boss, and the horses and oxen are having
their evening feed."

"And he might take my beautiful Shoes," said Dick.

"Or my lovely old Stockings," cried Jack, quite unconscious of how
absurd his words sounded.

"We shall have to follow out the Zulu's plan, my boys," said Mr Rogers;
"and the sooner we try the better."

The midday halt was called by a beautifully transparent pool of water,
where some richly succulent grass awaited