Again and again was the awful sound repeated and each time she was
certain that it came nearer. She could locate the direction of this
sound although she could not that of the guns, for the origin of
the former was much closer. The lion was up wind and so could not
have caught her scent as yet, though he might be approaching to
investigate the light of the fire which could doubtless be seen
for a considerable distance.
For another fear-filled hour the girl sat straining her eyes and
ears out into the black void beyond her little island of light.
During all that time the lion did not roar again; but there was
constantly the sensation that it was creeping upon her. Again and
again she would start and turn to peer into the blackness beyond
the trees behind her as her overwrought nerves conjured the stealthy
fall of padded feet. She held the rifle across her knees at the
ready now and she was trembling from head to foot.
Suddenly her horse raised his head and snorted, and with a little
cry of terror the girl sprang to her feet. The animal turned and
trotted back toward her until the picket rope brought him to a stand,
and then he wheeled about and with ears up-pricked gazed out into
the night; but the girl could neither see nor hear aught.
Still another hour of terror passed during which the horse often
raised his head to peer long and searchingly into the dark.
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