“A lion,” was the answer. “He seems to be coming closer.”
“Gee. Maybe we can get a shot at his lordship,” grinned Bob, picking up his rifle.
But if the lion was near the camp he failed to cause a disturbance. Perhaps the brute had sensed that someone had invaded his domain, but had also sensed that it would be dangerous to interfere.
“What’s that over there?” demanded Bob, making out something just beyond the fire.
“Why—it looks like two red lights,” observed Joe. “And they seem to be coming closer.”
The naturalists’ eyes followed those of their sons. Then Mr. Holton reached for his rifle.
“Keep quiet,” he whispered, taking careful aim at the red “lights.”
Then he fired, the report being followed by a terrible screeching and wailing noise. With one last groan, the animal, whatever it was collapsed.
“Hurray!” yelled Joe. “Got him, Mr. Holton. But what was it?”
The victim proved to be a huge lemur, an animal that looked like a cross between a monkey and a cat. It was about three feet long and had an unusually long tail.