“Hurray! hurray!” I shouted, waving my crossbow above my head, “the monster is slain! the monster is slain!”
There was a piercing shriek behind me, and I turned, bow in hand, to find myself face to face with my aunt.
Chapter Three.
How I Hunted the Lion in No-man’s-Land and what Followed.
My aunt’s cry brought out Uncle Joseph in a terrible state of excitement, and it was not until after a long chase and Buzzy was caught that she could be made to believe that he had not received a mortal wound. And a tremendous chase it was, for the more Uncle Joseph and I tried to circumvent that cat, the more he threw himself into the fun of the hunt and dodged us, running up trees like a squirrel, leaping down with his tail swollen to four times its usual size, and going over the beds in graceful bounds, till Uncle Joseph sat down to pant and wipe his face while I continued the chase; but all in vain. Sometimes I nearly caught the cat, but he would be off again just as I made a spring to seize him, while all Aunt Sophia’s tender appeals to “poor Buzzy then,” “my poor pet then,” fell upon ears that refused to hear her.
“Oh how stupid I am!” I said to myself. “Oh, Buzzy, this is too bad to give me such a chase. Come here, sir, directly;” and I stooped down.
It had the required result, for Buzzy leaped down off the wall up which he had scrambled, jumped on to my back, settled himself comfortably with his fore-paws on my shoulder, and began to purr with satisfaction.
“I am glad, my boy,” said Uncle Joseph, “so glad you have caught him; but have you hurt him much?”