The edge of the bush was almost reached when Laxdale, with a splendid shot at a hundred and twenty yards, brought down a large panther. A halt was made while the blacks skinned the dead beast, for in practically waterless districts panther-skin is a valuable aid to the efficiency of a Maxim gun. Soaked in water, wrapped round the jacket of the weapon, the evaporation keeps the gun cooler for a longer time than if the water within the jacket alone were used.
Upon coming within sight of the camp the white men were able to walk side by side in comparatively open country.
MacGregor, Laxdale, and Danvers were on ahead, Spofforth and Wilmshurst about fifty paces behind, Bela Moshi with the cub was close on Dudley's heels, while the Haussas with the dead panther were some distance in the rear, the blacks carrying the officers' rifles since the hunters were clear of the bush.
"I'll take the cub," said Wilmshurst, noticing that the native sergeant was stumbling frequently as he carefully nursed the somewhat fretful animal.
"Berry good, sah," replied Bela Moshi, handing the cub to the subaltern. "I tink, sah, dat——"
A chorus of yells and warning shouts from the Haussas made the officers turn pretty sharply. What they saw was something that they had badly wanted to see but at the present moment had not the faintest desire to meet.
Leaping with prodigious bounds across the flat ground was an enormous lioness. The devoted beast had followed her cub for miles, her instinct telling her that when the men halted her opportunity would come to recover the little animal. A lioness bereft of her cubs has been known to follow hunters for days in order either to recover or revenge her offspring. The sight of the large camp, however, must have incited the gigantic feline to premature action.
Of the five white men only MacGregor retained his rifle. Laxdale and Danvers took to their heels, making for a large baobab that stood about fifty yards away. Strange to relate, MacGregor followed suit, thrusting a clip of cartridges into the magazine of his rifle as he ran. Wilmshurst, hampered by the cub, stood stock still, fascinated by the awesome sight of the approaching lioness.
Ten yards in front of Wilmshurst stood Spofforth, swaying gently on his toes, his bulky figure thrown slightly forward and his arms outstretched.
"Run for it!" he exclaimed in a high-pitched, unnatural voice, but without turning his head.