“I see something dark on one of the projecting limbs,” answered Grace, after a long look. “What is it?”
“An animal, probably a lion.”
“Ours?” questioned Hippy.
The guide shook his head.
“‘Ours’ as you call him is too full of bear meat at this moment to climb a tree. He is probably still munching under a thick growth of creeping juniper somewhere, and may remain there all night. That animal in the umbrella tree must be another lion. Want to try your marksmanship on him, Mrs. Gray? Take a shot at him,” urged Hamilton White. “This isn’t a fair test, I know, for you can’t even see your rifle sights.”
“Why, yes, I’ll try it.” The members of the party, at the guide’s direction, had brought along their rifles, as Ham knew that the weapons might be needed. Grace stepped forward a little, moved to the right, then to the left, each time peering over the barrel of her automatic rifle. “I am not certain, but I think I can line up one sight. Shall I fire?”
“Sure!” answered White.
The Overland girl knelt down and rested the rifle against the side of a tree, but the position did not suit her, so she lay flat on her back on the ground, with the weapon held between her elevated knees. It was for only a few seconds that she waited, then there came a flash and a sharp report, followed by a spat!
A snarl, and a faint squeal, came down to them.
“You hit the tree, and I shouldn’t be surprised if you barked the beast, too!” cried Ham enthusiastically. “Try it again.”