“And you fired at it?”
“Well, yes,” said Mark; “you heard me, and came.”
“Exactly,” said the doctor drily; “but are you sure that the beast, whatever it was, sprang at you?”
“I saw it rear up as I fired,” replied Mark, “and I felt a tremendous blow on the shoulder. Yes: here’s the bruise.”
“Yes, my boy,” said the doctor quietly, “but that is just such a bruise as would have been made if you had pulled both triggers of a heavy rifle at once.”
“Well,” said Mark quietly, “I have been lying awake almost ever since, and that’s just what I’ve been fancying. Do you think it was that, doctor?”
“I feel sure of it, Mark; and what’s more, I have been all round the camp with the Illaka and the two keepers, and even in the moistest place we can find, there isn’t the sign of a lion’s spoor.”
“Well, that’s queer,” said Mark, scratching his head. “I don’t understand it. Now I want some breakfast, and I am going to get up.”