At last their unpleasant neighbours grew so demonstrative, that Mr Rogers gave the word, and they drew rein at the edge of a patch of wood, where there was an abundance of dry brush and grass.
“We must not go any further, boys,” exclaimed Mr Rogers. “Dick, sit fast, and hold the reins of Jack’s and my horses. We’ll jump down and make a fire. Come, Chicory, dead dry grass.”
The boy no sooner understood what was wanted than he began rapidly to gather up the dry grass into a heap, while Jack and his father drew their heavy hunting-knives and chopped off the brushwood; but it was nervous work, for the low, muttering roar came ominously close, and at any moment Dick felt that one of the great cat-like creatures, which have a terrible hunger after horseflesh, might spring upon one of the poor creatures, which trembled and whinnied, and tugged at the reins.
“I shan’t do much good, father,” cried Dick, “but I’m going to shoot where I think the lions are.”
“Yes, fire,” cried his father, who was down upon his knees, vainly trying to get the dry grass to burn; “fire as quickly as you can load.”
Bang, bang, went Dick’s double gun on the instant; and apparently comforted by the noise, and perhaps an instinctive knowledge that the firing was for their protection, the horses ceased to embarrass their caretaker by tugging to get away, and crowded together, pressing one upon the other in their dread.
There was a pause of about a minute’s duration, and then the lions’ cry was heard again a little more distant, but coming nearer and nearer; and still the fire would not burn, but kept on emitting a dense blinding smoke, which hid one great beast from Dick’s eyes, where he had distinctly seen the animal creeping along towards them. Directly after, though, he saw another quite plainly in the bright moonlight, creeping cautiously onwards, and stooping from time to time as if about to spring.
Dick had reloaded by this time, and taking careful aim he fired again, when there was a furious roar, and they all heard quite plainly the snap and gnashing of the monster’s teeth.
“You’ve hit him, Dick. Keep it up, my boy. Chicory, here! Come and blow. I can’t get this fire to burn.”
Chicory threw himself upon his hands and knees, and as Dick, with agitated fingers, hastily reloaded, and tried to see the next lion so as to have a shot at it, there came a deep-mouthed roar from behind. Then another and another, and the horses grew frantic, for the beasts were evidently going to make their attack.