aving ceased
to lick him, sniffed about his body. There are some things than which
death is to be preferred; and there came at last to the Englishman
the realization that it would be better to die swiftly than to
lie in this horrible predicament until his mind broke beneath the
strain and he went mad.

And so, deliberately and without haste, he rose, clinging to the
grating for support. At his first move the lion growled, but after
that he paid no further attention to the man, and when at last
Smith-Oldwick had regained his feet the lion moved indifferently
away. Then it was that the man turned and looked about the enclosure.

Sprawled beneath the shade of the trees and lying upon the long bench
beside the south wall the great beasts rested, with the exception
of two or three who moved restlessly about. It was these that the
man feared and yet when two more of them had passed him by he began
to feel reassured, recalling the fact that they were accustomed to
the presence of man.

And yet he dared not move from the grating. As the man examined his
surroundings he noted that the branches of one of the trees near
the further wall spread close beneath an open window. If he could
reach that tree and had strength to do so, he could easily climb
out upon the branch and escape, at least, from the enclosure of the
lions. But in order to reach the tree he must pass the full length
of the enclosure, and at the very bole of the tree itself two lions
lay sprawled out in slumber.

For half an hour the man stood gazing longingly at this seeming
avenue of escape, and at last, with a muttered oath, he straightened
up and throwing back his shoulders in a gesture of defiance, he
walked slowly and deliberately down the center of the courtyard.
One of the prowling lions turned from the side wall and moved
toward the center directly in the man's path, but Smith-Oldwick was
committed to what he considered his one chance, for even temporary
safety, and so he kept on, ignoring the presence of the beast. The
lion slouched to his side and sniffed him and then, growling, he
bared his teeth.

Smith-Oldwick drew the pistol from his shirt. "If he has made up
his mind to kill me," he thought. "I can't see that it will make
any difference in the long run whether I infuriate him or not. The
beggar can't kill me any deader in one mood than another."

But with the man's movement in withdrawing the weapon from his shirt
the lion's attitude suddenly