"They'll be showing themselves in a few seconds," prophesied Colonel Narfield. "Stand by."
But ten minutes passed. An ominous silence prevailed, broken only by the deep breathing of the sleeping lads and the sharp crackle of the burning brushwood.
"It calls tae mind that bit in Melville Wood, sir," remarked McFrazer, in a lower tone than was his wont. "We whur twa companies strong, you'll remember, sir, an' we were expectin' Fritz in force come dawn. I'll no complain o' the fight; 'twas the wait as gived maist o' the lads the creepies."
Colonel Narfield nodded comprehendingly.
"When we'd a-gi'en Fritz a bellyful," continued McFrazer despondingly, "I found I'd lost ma pooch an' five francs in siller an a'. I ne'er clappit eyen on it tha' noo——"
He broke off his reminiscences and gripped his rifle. The colonel, roused to action, followed the direction of the Scotsman's glance. The tedious wait was at an end.
Silently a huge lion had approached. It was standing with its hind legs slightly bowed and its forelegs planted stiffly upon a boulder. In that position, thrown into strong relief against the blackness of the night by the fire, its bulk was enormously magnified until it resembled a ruddy, bronzed statue.
The animal was obviously troubled by the sight of the flames. The fire stood in its path. With its head thrown well back, its enormous lips bared and showing its cruel, magnificent teeth, the lion gave no sign of movement except a slow, ponderous motion of its tail.
Having apparently weighed the risks, the king of beasts came to the conclusion that it was safe to follow the spoor of the antelope between the flames and the brink of the chasm.
Throwing back his maned head still further, the lion roared. It was an intimation to his companions that they could rejoin him, for quickly two full-grown lionesses stood behind him.