"I don't know what's got into Tom. He's a mighty good sort. I never saw him like this before." O'Grady shook his head.
"Well, for one thing there's too much Scotch got into him," observed White.
"I think it's the fever and the worry." The assistant director was loyal to his chief.
"Whatever it is we're in for a bad mess if there isn't a change," the Englishman prophesied. His manner was serious, and it was evident that he was worried.
"Perhaps you're—" O'Grady started to reply, but his words were interrupted by a sudden rattle of rifle fire coming, apparently, from the direction of the head of the column.
"My lord! What now?" exclaimed White, as, leaving O'Grady, he hurried toward the sound of the firing.
III
POISONED ARROWS
The ears of man are dull. Even on the open veldt they do not record the sound of a shot at any great distance. But the ears of hunting beasts are not as the ears of man; so hunting beasts at great distances paused when they heard the rifle fire that had startled O'Grady and White. Most of them slunk farther away from the dread sound.
Not so two lying in the shade of a tree. One was a great black-maned golden lion; the other was a man. He lay upon his back, and the lion lay beside him with one huge paw upon his chest.