No hour had passed since
Bara had come this way; the time could be measured in minutes and
so the great lion redoubled the cautiousness of his advance as he
crept stealthily in pursuit of his quarry.
A light wind was moving through the jungle aisles, and it wafted
down now to the nostrils of the eager carnivore the strong scent
spoor of the deer, exciting his already avid appetite to a point
where it became a gnawing pain. Yet Numa did not permit himself to
be carried away by his desires into any premature charge such as
had recently lost him the juicy meat of Pacco, the zebra. Increasing
his gait but slightly he followed the tortuous windings of the
trail until suddenly just before him, where the trail wound about
the bole of a huge tree, he saw a young buck moving slowly ahead
of him.
Numa judged the distance with his keen eyes, glowing now like two
terrible spots of yellow fire in his wrinkled, snarling face. He
could do it--this time he was sure. One terrific roar that would
paralyze the poor creature ahead of him into momentary inaction,
and a simultaneous charge of lightning-like rapidity and Numa, the
lion, would feed. The sinuous tail, undulating slowly at its tufted
extremity, whipped suddenly erect. It was the signal for the charge
and the vocal organs were shaped for the thunderous roar when, as
lightning out of a clear sky, Sheeta, the panther, leaped suddenly
into the trail between Numa and the deer.
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