CROSSING A RIVER ON A FALLEN TREE.
The guide said it was only a few steps away, but it proved to be half a mile and more, and, what was worse, there was a small stream in the way, too wide to step over; it was also too deep for the strangers to ford, though an easy matter for the natives. But there was a bridge, in the shape of a fallen tree, and, by careful balancing along its surface, the party, one by one, reached the other side without accident.
Several of the natives had gone on in advance and surrounded the thicket, which, fortunately, was not very large. Doctor Bronson and Fred took their places, about fifty yards apart, where it was thought the lion would endeavor to escape when roused by the sound of the drums and other noisy instruments carried by the natives. When all was ready the signal was given, and the din of the discord began in its full force.
Fred was peering sharply into the bushes to watch for any moving thing; all at once he caught sight of a yellow mass gliding along close to the ground, and advancing in his direction. He was satisfied it was the lion, and made ready to fire at the proper moment.
Fred's motion of his rifle attracted the Doctor's attention, and he too brought his weapon to the shoulder, and prepared to use it at the first opportunity.
The lion crept slowly, as if aware of his danger. Fred allowed him to get within twenty yards of his position, and then discharged the rifle, after taking careful aim.
The lion gave a bound into the air. He was evidently wounded, but quite as evidently he was not killed.
Doctor Bronson was a good shot "on the wing," and while the lion was in the air a bullet from the Doctor's rifle went crashing through his skull and brought him dead to the ground. There was no need of any farther shot, and the animal never moved a muscle after he touched the earth.