Tom fetched him out, calmed his apprehensions, and set him by the fire again. The wild boy seemed at last persuaded that the danger was past, and his young master having fastened the cord dangling at the child's waist to his own belt again, Peter once more wrapped himself in his blanket and went to sleep. Tom, lying a few feet away from him, was not slow to follow his example.
It seemed but a few minutes to the English lad, yet the space of a full hour had certainly elapsed, when Tom was violently startled from his sleep by a wild, terrified yell, which sounded close to his ears. There was something so horrifying about that wild scream, violently shattering the previous stillness of the night, that a shudder of apprehension went thrilling through Tom's whole person. In the same instant there was a rough pull at the lad's belt; he was turned half over. and, before he had time to snatch up the rifle by his side, he felt himself being dragged away over the ground at a rapid pace. The lad's mind instantly grasped the situation. Something--a lion, no doubt--had got hold of the unfortunate Peter, and was dragging him off; and Tom, being coupled to him by the long cord, was being dragged also. In an instant Tom had unbuckled his belt and was free. Springing to his feet and looking round, he saw by the light of the fire a huge yellow-maned lion, which had Peter by the neck, and was dragging him away into the darkness.
Meanwhile, the unfortunate black boy, after uttering that first wild, terrified yell, was shrieking out for help. Poeskop was running up to the rescue, and he afterwards affirmed that the boy had, beyond all doubt, suddenly recovered his native tongue, and was crying out and imploring assistance in Berg Damara. Tom rushed to the fire, seized upon a long piece of burning wood, and with that ran back to the lion, which was now dragging its unfortunate victim well beyond the circle of the firelight, and belaboured the brute about the head and face with the burning brand. It was a marvellously plucky act, but it was useless. The fierce brute held on grimly to its prey, and merely hastened its pace, now moving at a swift trot. Tom turned to rush for his rifle, and in the same instant something seemed to flash out from the darkness, and knocked him down. It was a lioness, which, as Poeskop and Guy came running up with their weapons, stood over the lad, growling horribly--a fierce, throaty, menacing growl--as if daring them to come on.
Guy and the Bushman fired together, and at the twin report the lioness, shot through heart and brain, sank quietly down upon Tom, and lay stark dead. At this moment Mr. Blakeney came up to their assistance. Between them they dragged the grim brute off Tom, who was by this time nearly suffocated. A full-grown lion weighs a good deal more than twice as much as a heavy man, and Tom, although happily not seriously hurt, was pretty well flattened, and had most of his breath knocked out of him. They got him to his feet, felt him all over, and asked anxiously if he was hurt.
"N--no!" gasped the lad; "I'm--all--right--I think. G--go on after Peter. Hark! He's there somewhere. The other lion's got him. Hark!"
They listened for a moment. There came faint, agonized cries from out the darkness. They were the unfortunate wild boy's last appeals. They ceased. All was still.
"Bring fire-sticks," cried out Mr. Blakeney. "You, Poeskop, stay with Baas Tom, and get him to the fire. Guy, Jan, Seleti, come with me. You, Mangwalaan, stay by the oxen."
Jan Kokerboom and Seleti armed themselves with flaming brands, and the four advanced into the darkness. They could see little beyond a dozen feet in front of them. Again they listened. The wild boy's voice was no more heard, but in its place there came from the outer darkness a sickening scrunching of bones. It was the lion devouring his victim, apparently some forty yards away.
"Oh," cried Mr. Blakeney, "I can't stand this. We must go on." They moved forward ten yards, and then, from some thick bush in front of them, there came a low, cavernous, threatening growl from the brute, disturbed at its prey. Mr. Blakeney and Guy fired together, and reloaded. They could hear the man-killer dragging the unfortunate lad yet farther into the bush. Again they fired. Now the men's torches were getting low. Still they advanced again, though much against the will of the two natives.
"Baas," whispered Jan Kokerboom, "this is madness. My fire-stick will be out in another minute, and we shall all be killed by the lions. There are more about. I have heard them."