as
reached--a peculiarly crisp, brown, tempting-looking piece adhering to
one of the skewers. This he held back for a few moments in company with
the last piece of mealie cake, wishing the while that he had cooked
more, and brought a larger piece of the cake.

"Roast beef's nothing to it," he said softly. "Wish old Joe had been
here to have a bit while it's so tender, and poor old Duke, too. Never
mind, he shall have double allowance when he does come--triple if he
brings my pouch. I wonder whether he has found it. It's wonderful what
he can do in that way."

He raised his eyes to gaze in the direction taken by the dog as he sat
there near the fire, and the huge carcass of the eland behind him, and
then he seemed to have been suddenly turned into stone--sitting with the
bit of cake in one hand, the skewer in the other, staring, with white
rings round his eyes, straight at a full-grown, handsomely maned lion,
standing about twenty yards away, gazing at him straight in the face.

CHAPTER TEN.

THE HUNTER HUNTED.

Dyke was completely paralysed in body, but his mind was wonderfully
active, and he noted that the horse even had not divined the approach of
the great beast, but was puffing away with snorting breath at the
insects upon the tender shoots, and browsing contentedly enough, while
the lion had stolen softly up nearer and nearer, without a sound, after
perhaps following on the track of the antelopes for weeks, and taking
toll from time to time, which might have accounted for its sleek
condition and glistening hide.

In spite of the feeling of horror which chilled the boy, he could not
help admiring the beauty of the magnificent beast before him, with its
full flowing mane, and sunny, yellowish eyeballs intently watching him,
as the long lithe tail, with its black tuft of long hairs at the tip,
swung to and fro, now seen upon the left side, now upon the right, in
other respects the great animal being as motionless as the boy.

For many moments Dyke could not even breathe, but at last he uttered a
gasp, followed by a sharp, catching sound, as he inspired with a sob,
and the lion raised the hair about his ears, as if to frown, and uttered
a low, deep, growling noise.

Dyke's heart seemed to stand still as, with his eyes still fixed upon
those of the beast, he waited for it to spring upon him, and drive him
back. What then?

He shuddered softly, trying hard not to move, and irritate the lion into
has