hile Simba
drove his spear several times deep into his heart, and exerting his
strength when he felt the claws relax, he brought his right leg forward,
and turning the animal's back on it, pressed down his head with his left
hand, and drew the sharp spear-blade twice across the throat, almost
severing the head. Then the animal, yielding to superior strength and
weapons, fell off, shivered once or twice, and lay extended lifeless--
dead.

Poor Simba was most grievously wounded; for the claws had penetrated
deep into his hip, while the knee-bone was bare.

"Ah!" sighed he, as he heard the expressions of sympathy from his young
friend, "if I had only some of that eland thou didst shoot, Kalulu, in
me yesterday, to-day I should have bent that beast double, as easily as
I would fold a piece of cloth. But grain-food! who can be strong after
feeding on grain-food for sixteen days? Give grain to asses, but meat
for men!"

"See here, Simba. Do thou rest thyself under this tree, while I go and
bring our friends here. It is far easier for them to come here than for
us to carry the eland to them. Thou mayest take my cloth to wrap round
thy wounds. I don't need cloth while thou art thus." So saying, the
generous, sympathising youth hastened to inform his friends of the
accident that had happened to Simba, which they received with surprise
and consternation.

Selim and Abdullah, who had been indebted so often to the power that lay
in Simba's arm, as soon as they heard of the wounds which their champion
had received, now hastened to him to offer their services.

"Speak, Simba! Oh! the frightful beast!" said Selim, as his eye caught
sight of the mangled and gashed leopard. "Speak! art thou much hurt?"

Simba was reclining under the tree, looked slightly troubled with his
pains; the clothe he had taken to staunch the blood were lying on the
wounded hip and knee, by no means pleasant to look at. The two boys,
seeing these things, judged immediately that Simba's case was very
grave--that he was going to die; and, not knowing what else to do, they
began to cry, to sound the praises of their dear friend, and lament his
sudden "taking off."

Simba, however, answered them as quickly as he could subdue a pang of
pain, and command language.

"Nay, weep not, young masters. Simba is but slightly wounded--flesh
wounds--nothing more. No, no, Simba is not going to die; he must see
his wife and children, and Selim in his home a