"All the better," replied the exasperated Scotchman; "one feels strong when there's fighting to be done."
"Do be prudent, Mr. Dick, pray be prudent—on the life of one depends the life of all now."
But Dick, who did not hear him, advanced with blazing eyes and loaded gun, terrible in his rashness. Beneath a palm tree an enormous lion with black mane was crouched. Scarcely did he perceive the hunter than he sprang at him; but he had not touched ground again when a bullet through the heart settled him. He fell dead.
"Hurrah! hurrah!" cried Joe.
Kennedy hurried towards the wells, slipping upon the damp steps, and stretched himself down beside a spring, in which he eagerly laved his swollen lips. Joe followed his example, and they heard nothing save the cries of the animals which they had disturbed by their approach.
"Be cautious, Mr. Dick," said Joe, as he took breath, "do not drink too much at first."
But Dick, without replying, continued drinking. He plunged his head and hands into the grateful water—he was like a man intoxicated.
"And about Mr. Ferguson?" said Joe.
This recalled Kennedy to himself. He filled a bottle he had brought and hurried up the steps. But what was his surprise—an enormous body closed up the opening! Joe, who followed Dick, drew him back with him.
"We are shut in!"
"It is impossible—what do you say———"
But Dick did not finish his sentence. A terrible roaring gave him to understand with what new enemy he had to do.
"Another lion!" cried Joe.
"No, a lioness—ah, wait a minute, you beast!" said Dick, quickly reloading his carbine.
He fired a moment after, but the animal had disappeared. "Come along," cried he.
"No, no, Mr. Dick, you have not killed her—she is crouching close here, and she will spring at the first who approaches, and he will be lost."
"But what can you do? We must get out. And Samuel is waiting for us."
"Let us 'draw' her. Take my gun and give me your carbine."
