“No,” said Dick sturdily. “He’d laugh at us for cowards. We’ve got to get used to lions, Jack; and it’s our own doing—we wanted to come.”
“Yes, but I didn’t know they’d come so close,” replied Jack. “Hark at that!”
There was a deep-toned quivering roar, apparently from the other side of the fire, and Dick felt his heart beat rapidly as he threw a handful of small twigs upon the fire to make it blaze up.
“Let’s go and talk to the horses,” he said. “Yes; that’s right,” for Jack had also added an armful of dry wood to the fire, which now blazed up merrily.
They went to the thorny hedge which protected the horses, and on making their way through to where they were haltered to a pole, carried on the waggon for the purpose, they found the poor creatures trembling, and with dripping flanks, while when they spoke to them they rubbed their noses against their masters’ hands, and whinnied with pleasure, as if comforted by the presence of the boys.
“What’s that, Dick?” cried Jack excitedly, for there was a crashing noise as if something had leaped at the hedge.
The answer came in the panic of the bullocks and the dread of the horses; and, without hesitating, Jack lowered his piece in the direction of the sound, to fire both barrels rapidly one after the other.
There was a savage roar for response, and a rush as of some creature bounding through the bushes. Then all was silent.
“I wonder whether I hit him,” said Jack, proceeding to throw out the empty cartridges and reload.
“Is anything wrong? Shall I come?” shouted Mr Rogers, from within the waggon.