"Oh!! They killed."
"You see," said the hunter to the two boys, "the pair crouched here; these circular marks in the sand were made by the swing of the tails. They sighted game. One of them—the lioness, no doubt—worked round to drive the game towards the lion."
"It is a guess," said Compton. "Perhaps the lion stopped because of his hurt."
"No; the bleeding has stopped. They not only sighted game, but the lioness drove it from the river-bed towards the lion, and the lion brought it down."
"Oh, come," said Compton. "How can you tell that?"
"From the spoor"—laconically. "He sprang twice—here, where he alighted the first time; and the second spring landed him on to the neck of an antelope powerful enough to struggle on into that thicket of reeds. There the two of them pulled it down."
"And there he is!" shouted Venning.
He pointed to the right of the reeds, and there was a great yellowish beast walking away at a slow walk, with its head sunk.
"The lioness," said the hunter. "Venning, keep by me, but a little behind. Compton, when I whistle, fire into the reeds."
Compton nodded his head, and the two went off, while Muata sat down as a spectator.