“Oh, yes, he would,” said Dick thoughtfully. “Father wants us to grow up manly and strong, and ready to laugh at what would alarm some lads. Hark! what’s that?”
He caught his brother’s arm, for just then, apparently from beneath their feet, they heard a peculiar noise.
“Oomph! oomph! oomph!” a peculiar, vibrating, shuddering, deep-toned cry, which seemed to make the air, and the very earth beneath them, vibrate.
There was no mistaking it. Over and over again they had heard Coffee and Chicory imitate the cry; but how pitiful their attempts seemed now, as compared to the noise heard there in the solemnity of the silent night! “Oomph! oomph! oomph!” a peculiar grunting, shuddering roar, which made a perfect commotion in the strongly-made cattle-kraal or enclosure, the oxen running about in their dread, and the horses whinnying and stamping upon the hard ground.
“How close is it!” whispered Jack, stretching out his hand to get hold of his rifle.
“I don’t know. It seems sometimes just by this patch of bushes, and sometimes ever so far away. Hark! there’s another.”
“Yes, and another.”
“Or is it all made by one lion?” said Dick.
“I don’t know,” replied Jack, in an awe-stricken whisper.
“Shall we call father, and tell him there are lions about?”