As Ralph made his dart for safety the lions spied him. With crashing bounds they came out of the underbrush.
Ralph felt a bullet whiz by his ear, but he heard no howl to tell that one of the lions had been hit. Instead, came Jim’s voice from above.
“Oh, Lord! This plagued rock juts out too far for me to aim down on ’em.”
“Throw me down the rifle, quick!” cried Ralph, an agony in his voice.
He knew he could not clamber up the rock in time to avoid the lions’ claws. His one chance lay in the desperate plan he had formed as Jim’s exclamation came to his ears.
Jim let the rifle come sliding and clattering down the rock and Ralph caught it up. The strange noise of the weapon as it came to the ground after the startling report halted the lions for an instant. But as he turned to face them Ralph saw that they were all ready for another attack.
He bravely prepared to meet it, although his pulses throbbed and his breath came so fast that he could hardly hold the rifle in the proper position.