Paul King understood this when Nero advanced upon him, unheeding his tone of command.
"Down, Nero!" he cried; but Nero would not down. His wicked eyes glared, his tail lashed his sides, and he rushed at his keeper with hostile intent.
It flashed upon King that Nero was becoming dangerous.
"I shall have to kill you!" he cried, between his set teeth.
He fired at the lion, but either the huge animal swerved or something affected his aim, for it did not hit the mark.
Then Gerald thought it was time for him to act. His life as well as the keeper's was in peril. Raising his weapon he took steady aim.
"Shoot him in the eye!" exclaimed King.
Gerald obeyed, directions. As a boy, of course, he was not a practised marksman; but luck—or perhaps it would be better to say Providence—was on his side, and the bullet entered Nero's eye and penetrated to his brain. The lion swayed a moment, and then fell over on his side. Death seemed to be instantaneous.
"By Jove! you have killed him!" exclaimed Paul King. "It was a fine shot!"
"Is he really dead?" asked Gerald, finding it difficult to believe in his success.