"Then we're all dead men," declared the terrified after-rider. "He'll jump right into the wagon."
"Well, if you didn't want to run such risks why did you come out here?" demanded his employer sternly. "I am not going to lose any of the stock if I can help it. You ought to know that we have nothing to fear from the one whose voice we have just heard, for when a lion means business he doesn't go about warning all the other animals of his approach; he keeps quiet. But there may be others about, you know."
Holding his rifle in his hands, in readiness for a shot, Oscar took his seat on the fore-chest, while McCann groaned and shivered behind it.
The former had scarcely taken up his position when the roar was repeated, apparently nearer than before (the lion is so perfect a ventriloquist that he could not be certain on this point), and it was the signal for a concert the like of which but few hunters have ever listened to.
An answering roar came from the other side of the water-course—a deep-toned roar of defiance. There was an instant's pause, and then a whole chorus of the resounding notes rang out on the night air.
It continued for perhaps half a minute, and when it died away it was answered in just the same manner, proving that the lion whose voice Oscar had first heard was attended by a troop quite as numerous as the one on the other side of the water-course.
No words can describe the effect of these sounds. Many a brave and experienced hunter has been completely demoralized by them.
Oscar's blood went rushing back upon his heart, leaving his face as pale as death itself, and his hair seemed to stand on end.
The natives ceased their conversation and lay down close beside their fire, drawing their skin cloaks over their heads; the horses snorted and trembled with fear; the oxen pulled at the trek-tow; the dogs whined and sought refuge under the wagon, and McCann groaned behind the fore-chest.
"There's nothing to make such a fuss about," said Oscar, who knew that he might as well turn about and go back to the coast as to show the white feather in the presence of his men. "Two strange troops of lions are approaching the water-hole from different directions, and they are daring one another to come on—that's all. You had better go out and mend your fires."