They again cautiously rode on.
“A lion! a lion!” cried the Kaffir, and looking over some bushes, they saw in an open space a large buffalo cow engaged in battle with the monarch of the wilds. Not far off lay the body of a buffalo calf, which at once explained to them the cause of the battle. The lion had taken up a position not far from some trees and thick bushes, whose branches were elevated but a short distance from the ground. The buffalo stood with her horns ready to receive her antagonist. Suddenly the lion bounded forward, fixing his powerful claws on the face and neck of the buffalo, when instantly, in spite of his weight, she turned, and rushing at the boughs, in a moment the lion was thrown off, and lay on his back with his claws in the air. Furiously the buffalo charged at him, pounding away with her horns in a manner which made it seem impossible that any life would be left in him. While the buffalo was retreating to make another charge, the lion, managing to roll himself over, recovered his feet. The buffalo received him as before, on her head. He in vain endeavoured to reach her hinder quarters, and once more she bore him into the brushwood. In an instant he was knocked off with a crash which it seemed must have broken every bone in his body; but he was soon again on his feet. This was more than the lion could stand, and, coward as he was at heart, finding himself thus defeated in his object, he took to flight, pursued by the buffalo, who went dashing away after him through the bush.
Gozo immediately dismounted, and stealing forward, dragged the calf into the bush.
“Gozo is determined that the lion shan’t benefit, even if he escapes the buffalo’s horns,” observed Denis. “Let’s keep out of the way, and we shall see what will next happen.” Presently the buffalo came back, looking about everywhere for her calf; but not observing it, naturally supposed that the lion had carried it off, and consequently away she dashed again in pursuit of the still fugitive king of the wilds.
“The big cowardly cat! I wish that she may overtake him, and give him a pounding which will knock the breath out of his body entirely!” cried Denis.
“What! do you call the lion a cat?” exclaimed Percy.
“To be sure I do. What is he but ‘Felis leo’? which means the cat lion, as you know, in Latin. He is more cowardly, too, than most cats, for he’ll never attack either a man or a beast unless he thinks he has a good chance of coming off the victor. I have not forgotten an unpleasant morning I spent once up a tree, with a couple of lions and their cubs rampaging round me; and if it had not been for my father and Hendricks, I should have been there still, at all events my bones would, for nothing would have induced me to come down and be torn to pieces by the brutes. It was a day or two after Hendricks found you, Lionel, and our friends Mangaleesu and Kalinda made a wonderful escape from their enemies which you have heard of.”
“What do you mean by finding Lionel? I thought he was the son of Hendricks,” said Percy.
“So I am his adopted son,” answered Lionel. “At first Hendricks thought that my parents might be Dutch boers; when Denis however tried to teach me English, I remembered so many English words that he was convinced they were English people; but although he has endeavoured to discover them for my sake rather than for his own, he has never yet succeeded in finding even the slightest clue as to who they could be.”
“How very curious!” said Percy. “When I get home to my father and mother, I must tell them all about it. They will be much interested, and I hope, Lionel, that you will come and see them.”