Then followed a weary time of waiting in complete silence, broken only by the soft melancholy murmur of the forest. They refilled the magazines of their carbines, built up the tinder fire, and stretched their ears to catch the first warning note of danger. Then the whisperings swarmed in upon them. A creak of a branch, the turn of a leaf, the scraping of creeping insects, the whizzing of moths, and the murmur of the forest, all seemed to them the whisperings of stealthy foes. Every now and again they moistened their lips, which dried after the repeated spells during which they held their breath, while intently listening for the footfalls of the enemy.
Then, with a feeling of relief, they heard an unmistakable wouf! That, at least, was a tangible sound—the sound of a startled animal.
Presently they heard its footsteps, as it came cautiously forward, a little way at a time. Once more the fingers coiled round the triggers, and the barrels were raised.
Then came a yelp, this time of fear, followed by the leopard's terrible scream. Some animal darted by the opening, so close that they could see the gleam of its eyes as it glanced in upon them, and after it with a bound went a larger form. They listened to the dwindling noise of the chase, and Compton stirred up the fire.
"What's up now, eh?"
"It," said Venning, referring to the leopard, "is after something, don't you think?"
"I hope to goodness it will have a good run, then."
But even as he spoke the sound of the chase grew; the smaller animal flashed by again with the savage pursuer at its heels, flew round the trees, and leapt inside—leapt in and pressed itself down behind the two of them. With a snarl, the leopard stopped before the smouldering logs, and then sprang on to the roof, at which it struck two or three tremendous blows before bounding off again.
"Where's my knife?" yelled Compton.
Venning felt a warm tongue on his hand, and drew it away with a cry, as if he had been stung.