Venning moistened his lips. "Look out," he shouted, "there is a lion here."
"Where are you?"
"Here, by this rock."
"Stay there, and keep quite still."
The growling increased, and once more the same paralysis attacked the boy so that he could scarcely breathe. Then some one stood at his side, and the fear went from him at once.
"He's over there, somewhere; but I can't see him."
"I can. Get round the rock, my boy. He's lying flat with his head between his paws, and it's a mercy you did not fire again and draw his charge."
Venning moved round the rock, and Mr. Hume slowly followed. He stopped awhile to listen to the incessant growling.
"You've hit him, but not, I think, mortally; anyway, we'll leave him, if he will leave us. Move on towards the camp quietly—don't run."
"No, sir," said Venning; but it required an effort not to make a bolt for it when he saw the friendly gleam of the fire.