CHAPTER XII

BESET BY LIONS

"NOW, now, you fellows!" interrupted Colonel Narfield's voice from the vicinity of the blazing fire, "palaver ended. Not another word, or you'll both be fat-headed in the morning."

Both lads relapsed into silence. They knew perfectly well that with Colonel Narfield an order was an order in whatever form it was expressed. For the time being, then, Colin's explanations of his surprising theory had to be shelved.

Ten minutes later both lads were sound asleep beneath the African stars. The watcher by the fire heard their regular breathing.

"Not much wrong there," he soliloquised with a smile, "if they can sleep like that."

The roaring grew louder. He threw another armful of brushwood upon the fire and carefully wiped the dewy moisture from the barrel and sights of his rifle. Then he strolled across to where McFrazer was sitting, painstakingly shredding a plug of Boer tobacco in the palm of his left hand.

"Aren't you turning in?" he asked.

"Weel, I'm thinkin' not, sir," replied the man. "Them beasties seem a bit too venturesome the nicht."

Narfield nodded gravely. In spite of his reassurances to the two lads, he was far from being easy in his mind. He recollected a story, told him only two days ago, of a lioness breaking through a ring of fire round a kraal and carrying off a full-grown sheep. Another disconcerting fact was a knowledge that, at the present rate of consumption, the pile of firewood was diminishing far too rapidly.

For two hours the two men waited and watched, while their younger companions slept. Apparently the lions had decided to maintain a safe distance. They were roaring at frequent intervals--deep, prolonged volumes of sound, and yet Colin and Tiny still slept.

Suddenly an antelope, racing like the wind, tore along the mountain path. For a brief instant the startled creature stopped and gazed at the blazing fire with consternation plainly written in its large brown eyes. Then, evidently deeming the terror behind was more formidable than that in front, it rushed madly between the flames and the brink of the precipice and vanished in the darkness.

"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.

The roar, shaking the solid ground, roused the sleepers in double quick time. Tiny, shaking off his blankets, rose to his feet. Dazzled by the glare and with the echoes of the terrible cry ringing in his ears, he was for a moment unable to realise his surroundings.

Quick as lightning, the lion caught sight of the roused lad. The beast was hungry, and when thoroughly famished a lion will not hesitate to attack human beings, even when protected by fire. His eyes closed ever so slightly, his nostrils quivered. These were infallible signs that the lion contemplated a spring.

Levelling his rifle, Colonel Narfield fired. He was a second or so too late. Already the lithe, ponderous mass was hurtling through the air.

The thud of the criss-cross bullet could be distinctly heard as it struck the lion in the throat. The impetus of the moving mass was retarded, but not stopped. Falling short of his intended distance, the stricken lion pitched heavily into the fire, scattering burning embers far and wide.

Then, with a roar of mingled rage and pain, the lion, with a convulsive movement, leapt from the flames. Partly blinded, the infuriated animal appeared to have no other object in view than to make for Tiny Desmond, who, still partially encumbered with his blankets, was flattening himself against the wall of rock.

Before Herbert Narfield could fire a second time, and McFrazer was unable to fire at all owing to the danger of hitting his master, the lion hurled the former aside.

The colonel staggered backwards for half-a-dozen yards and subsided ungracefully, while his rifle, flying in a different direction, fell almost at Colin Sinclair's feet.

The lion was down again, but rallying for a final spring upon the supposed cause of his wound--the luckless Tiny.

In a trice, and almost automatically, Colin seized the colonel's rifle, and, without waiting to see if there were a cartridge in the breech, pressed the trigger.

Fortunately the weapon was loaded. The bullet, fired at less than ten feet range, hit the lion just behind the left shoulder. With a yelp the lion turned to deal with its latest assailant, and fell quivering upon the ground, shot through the heart.

"Look out, sir!" shouted McFrazer, at the same time firing an apparently ineffectual shot.

The warning was a timely one, for one of the lionesses, rendered desperate by the death of her mate, was bounding rapidly towards the still prostrate man.

Yet, in her fury, the lioness was not lacking in cunning. Keeping the abandoned motor-car between her and McFrazer, she rapidly covered the distance between her and the fire, which, owing to being scattered by the lion's leap, was dying down and emitting clouds of smoke.

Colonel Narfield had already realised his danger and that of the whole party. At all costs the fire had to be made an effectual barrier. Rapidly unscrewing the cap of the petrol tin that lay within his reach, he hurled the tin into the centre of the wide circle of sizzling embers.

The result exceeded all expectations. With a hollow report, the contents of the tin exploded. Flames twenty feet in height leapt into the air. The heat was so terrific that the four men had to shield their eyes. Rivulets of flaming petrol spread in all directions. It was a barrier through which nothing endowed with life could possibly pass and survive.

The fierce flames had effectually scared both lionesses. All danger in that direction was now passed, but another peril rose to take its place. The steadily spreading petrol threatened to trap the men in the hollow in the tremendous wall of rock.

All they could do was to back as far as possible and wait. There was no chance of skirting the fire. Already the flames were licking the cliff at two points fifty yards apart.

Rather grimly Colonel Narfield realised that he had overdone things. He never thought for one moment that a mere tin of petrol would create such an inferno. It looked like a case of out of the frying-pan into the fire with a vengeance.

But already the tide of flame was receding, at least on the side nearest the four men. The terrain sloped ever so slightly in their direction, and the volatile liquid failed to flow further.

Over the blackened ground minor explosions of petrol-laden air, like the expiring gasps of a stranded fish, showed that the force of the conflagration was spent; but on the other side and in the direction of the edge of the precipice, the petrol was flowing in a sheet of dull red fire.

As if passing out of a trance, Colin dimly realised that once again a dire peril had been averted. Scorched by the heat, his eyes painfully strained, and his throat burning, he was glad to drink in copious draughts of the now comparatively cool air. And in the midst of his discomforts he felt a wave of elation. He had bagged his first lion. There lay the huge carcase, the hair singed and the skin utterly spoilt; but it was there, a victim to his borrowed rifle, nevertheless.

A loud detonation rudely interrupted his thoughts. Before he could account for the explosion McFrazer settled the point.

"Mon!" he exclaimed excitedly, "the car!"

Overtaken by the spreading flames, the motor was blazing furiously.