Fernie really knew very little about shooting—of dangerous game he knew nothing. I don't suppose it would have made very much difference, because he was a reckless fellow, quite without fear.
One afternoon he shot at a skulking beast and hit her in the stomach. This beast was a female leopard, three-quarters grown. She charged him. Fernie hadn't time to load again, so hit her with his fist. His heavy blow stopped her for a moment, but no more. She sprang again, and as she sprang she struck at him, half-scalping him, and scoring deep wounds in his stomach and thighs.
Fernie roared like a mad thing. Dropping his rifle he grappled with her. She fought with the weapons Nature had given her; he, like savage man before the days of weapons. He spoke no word; the sounds he made came from the throat, not from the tongue—the raucous cries of a wild beast fighting for its life.
Presently Fernie tripped and fell. They rolled over and over in the dust; he, half-blinded, searching for her throat; she, biting and tearing at his flesh. He lay on her and pressed her to the ground; thus he got his grip upon her throat and held on until the end.
The end?
Fernie had killed the leopard with his hands, had strangled her. But what of the man?
A blinded, shredded thing, covered with blood and dust; his scalp hanging like a coarse fringe from his forehead to his chin; his clothes in tatters; gaping, welling wounds everywhere. This ruin of a strong man stood up, gave one long, loud roar of victory, and fell insensible.
The waggon boys had heard the shot, they also heard that cry. Thinking their master had killed an antelope, they went towards the spot from whence they judged the cry had come. They found Fernie and the leopard lying side by side, and thought at first that both were dead. It would have been better so.
But Fernie wasn't dead. His hold on life was much loosened, but not yet lost. For a day or two he lingered, and then he died. His agony was awful. He couldn't move; blood-poisoning set in; he knew he had to die, and hour by hour he begged his friend to shoot him.
"Shoot me, Black. For the love of Heaven shoot. My God, I cannot stand it. Kill me, Black! Oh, do be quick, Black!"