Reuel sat there entirely unconscious of danger; presently a vague feeling struck him, not of fear, not of dread, but a feeling that if he turned his head he would see an enemy, and without knowing why, he slowly turned his head.
Great heavens! what did he see? A thrill of horror passed through him as his eyes rested upon those of an enormous brute, glaring like hot coals set in blood-red circles.
Its mouth was wide open, its whiskers moving like the antennae of a lobster. It lay on its belly, its hindquarters raised, its forepaws planted in the tawny sand ready to spring.
The moon played on the spots of its body. The dark spots became silvered, and relapsed into darkness as the animal breathed, while its tail lashed about, occasionally whipping the sand with a peculiar whish.
How was he to withstand its spring?
The weight of its body would send him over the precipice like a shot.
Strange to say a grim satisfaction came to him at the thought that the brute must go down with him. Where could he hold? Could he clutch at anything? he asked himself.
He dared not remove his eyes from those of the leopard. He could not in fact. But in a sort of introverted glance he saw that nothing stood between him and space but a bare, polished wall, that shone white beneath the moonbeams.
“Was there a loose stone—a stone that would crush in the skull of the blood-thirsty animal?” Not so much as a pebble to cast into the depths, for he had already searched for one to fling over, as people do when perched on eminences. He cried for help, “Jim! Jim! O-o-o-h, Jim!”
There came no reply; not the slightest sound broke the stillness as the sound of his cries died away.