“Have you settled the brutes?” he shouted out. “I’m glad you have come, for I’m desperately hungry. They seemed inclined to keep me here all day. If I hadn’t had to leave my gun on the ground, I should soon have driven them away. I saw the brutes just in time to scramble up here.”
“You may thank heaven that you were not torn to pieces by them,” said Hendricks.
“Come down, Denis,” cried his father, thankful that he had escaped, and too glad to find fault with him just then.
The boy made his way down, but would have fallen on reaching the ground, had not his father caught him. He looked paler even than on the previous evening, but that was not surprising, considering the alarm he had been in, and that he had had no breakfast. It was important that they should get back to the camp as soon as possible, and the two hunters, each taking an arm, helped him along, for by himself it was very evident that he would have been unable to walk even a short distance.
“You have given us a pretty fright, Denis,” said his father. “What made you take it into your head to start off alone from the camp, without letting any one know where you were going?”
“Faith! for the sake of showing you what I could do,” answered Denis. “Besides, I just honestly confess that I thought you would have inspanned and come along this way, when I hoped you would not have refused to take me with you.”
“I thought as much, but you’ve gained nothing by the move,” observed his father. “You have shown me more clearly than before that you are utterly unfit to go through the fatigues of a hunter’s life. You’ll just take advantage of the kind offer of our friend here, and go back with him to Maritzburg.”
Poor Denis looked very crestfallen, but said nothing, for he did not feel just then well able to enter into a controversy with any one. Indeed, he was growing weaker and weaker, and it seemed more than probable that he would be unable to get back to the camp unless he was carried. Little Lionel had picked up his gun, and was staggering ahead with it over his shoulders. He kept his eyes looking about him as if on the watch for something or other. Presently he cried out in Zulu, “Be on your guard, white chief. See, see! there they come!” and Hendricks caught sight of the lion, followed at a distance by the cubs, stealing down the hill towards the spot where the lioness had been shot. He kept his eye on the animal, to watch its movements. Both he and Maloney had loaded with ball, and they now halted until the lion came within range of their weapons.
The brute moved slowly on, and then suddenly sitting up on its haunches, surveyed them at a distance.
“The lion has no stomach for a fight. We may go on,” said Hendricks. They walked on supporting Denis, while the boy kept close to their side until they had passed the body of the lioness, the lion all the time retaining its position, conscious probably that its duties were to protect its cubs. They went on and on until they got out of sight of the lion, which, when they last saw it, had not moved from its post. Very frequently, however, Hendricks looked back to ascertain whether the animal was following them. “After all, they are cowardly brutes,” he observed. “They will seldom attack a man when they see he is prepared for them, unless hard pressed by hunger. I have never found them otherwise.”