The farmer and his spouse gave one look and then stood, fairly paralyzed with fear.
They were unable to utter a word, and, to tell the truth, they both felt as if judgment was about to fall on them for ill-treating Leo, and that the ends of their miserable lives were at hand.
The lion crouched low, moving his heavy tail slowly from side to side.
He had escaped from his steel cage but an hour before, and as yet hardly knew what to do with his freedom.
From the road he had not been able to see the persons in the yard. But he had heard their voices, and his brute nature had caused him to leap the stone fence that he might rend some living creature limb from limb.
That the lion was in an ugly humor was easy to see. His mane was ruffled, his immense claws unsheathed, and his eyes were full of blood-curdling ferocity.
At first he gazed at Leo, but then swiftly turned toward Mrs. Hawkins, taking a single leap that brought him at the woman’s very feet.
“Oh! Daniel, save me!” she managed to gasp.
“Can’t nohow, Marthy!” spluttered the old farmer.
And then, recovering just sufficiently to move, he made a wild dash for the farmhouse, leaving his wife to her fate.