that it was no wild
animal, but poor Chicory, bending down, and evidently carefully tracing
some spoor, perhaps his brother's, while the lion was following to
strike him down.

It was a terrible position; for young as he was in woodcraft, Jack had
not yet acquired the firmness in critical moments that comes to the old
hunter, and for the time he felt paralysed.

He was a brave, self-denying boy, but in that emergency he could only
sit there, turned as it were to stone, and watch the motions of poor
Chicory, and the merciless beast that was stealthily creeping along in
his wake without a sound.

Jack knew that Chicory's position was critical in the extreme, and that
if he did not save him by a lucky shot the lion would strike him down;
but he could not move; the muscles of his whole body refused to act, as
if he was in a nightmare; all he could do was to move his eyes and watch
the terrible tragedy about to be enacted.

The boy felt as if he would have given worlds to be able to fire, or
even shout; but he could do nothing but wait, and see Chicory creeping
patiently along in and out among the trees and bushes, now hidden, now
coming into sight for a few moments, but always so intent upon the
footprints he was examining, that he did not hear his enemy.

And what an enemy! There was the great powerful beast, with glaring
eyes and horrent mane, creeping along with its fur brushing the grass,
and every foot touching the ground like velvet. At times Jack could see
the great muscles moving beneath its skin, and the pliant tail swaying
and quivering as it softly lashed it to and fro.

Several times over it crouched down, as if about to spring, but a quick
movement on the part of the Zulu boy caused it to pause--and still the
hunt went on.

As Jack sat there the great drops of perspiration gathered upon his
forehead, and trickled down his face. The sun's light reflected from
the glowing clouds grew less, and there was a grey gloom gathering
round, which made the scene before him more painful. At one time he
thought that as darkness came on Chicory might give up, become aware of
his danger, and so escape. Even now, if he could have warned him the
boy would have doubtless bounded into a tree, for he was as quick and
active as a monkey; but no warning passed from Jack's lips, and the
strange weird scene went on.

The forest glade before him might have been a maze whose path Chicory
was trying to thread, and the lio