"Because you two are excused duty tonight," explained the colonel. "McFrazer and I will keep alternate watches. If that fire dies out there'll be trouble. There are lions about, but they won't face a blaze. Supper's ready. We'll have to mark time a bit on the water, I fancy. We don't have it laid on out here, you know."
Nevertheless, it was a jolly repast, eaten in the open and in the ruddy glare of the enormous fire that cast fantastic shadows upon the wall of rock.
In the darkness a long-drawn-out roar pierced the darkness, to be answered by another and yet another. Instinctively McFrazer glanced up in the direction of his rifle, that lay propped up against a boulder.
Both Colin and Tiny recognised the sound. Lions were abroad; but when the lads were camping in the open, it seemed quite a different proposition from hearing the roar of the king of beasts from the comfort and security of a moving railway train.
"We may as well have a can of petrol handy," observed the colonel. "And the petrol-squirt, too," he added, as McFrazer hurried to the car, which was a good thirty yards from the fire. He knocked the ashes from his pipe.
"Now," he continued, "you fellows turn in. You must be tired. There's nothing to worry about except water in the morning."
Colin and Tiny turned in "all standing," wrapping themselves in blankets and drawing the macintosh sheets over them to keep off the night dews. From where they lay they saw Colonel Narfield unload his rifle, deliberately notch the nickel bullets, and replace them in the magazine.
"Good-night, old fellow," said Tiny.
"Good-night," replied his chum. Then he added, "Do you always speak the truth?"
"Always," replied Tiny, considerably puzzled. "Why do you ask?"