ely cases of cat and mouse. Not the ordinary domestic mouse, for
the little animal was one of the large, full-eyed, long-tailed garden
mice, and my attention was directed to it by seeing the cat making what
sporting people call "a point" at something. Puss was standing
motionless, watching intently, ready to spring at any moment, and upon
looking to see what took her attention, there at the foot of an old
tree-stump stood the very large mouse, not three feet from its enemy,
and so paralysed or fascinated by fear, that it paid no heed to my
approaching so closely that I could have picked it up. It was perfectly
unable to stir till I gave puss a cuff and sent her flying without her
natural prey, when the mouse darted out of sight.

The roaring of the lions seemed to exercise this fascination even upon
Dyke, who made no movement to fire, while he could hear the other
bullocks, evidently huddling together in mortal fear--a fear which
attacked him now, as the bellowings of the unfortunate bullock became
more agonised, then grew fainter, and died off in a piteous sigh.

Then, and then only, did Dyke seem to start back into the full
possession of his faculties; and raising the gun, he stood listening, so
as to judge as nearly as possible whereabouts to fire.

A sharp crack, as of a bone breaking, told him pretty nearly where the
spot must be, not fifty yards from where he stood; and, taking a guess
aim--for he could not see the sight at the end of the barrel--he was
about to draw trigger, when, at almost one and the same moment, Duke
uttered a frightened snarl: there was a rush, and the boy fired now at
random, fully aware of the fact that a lion must have crept up within a
few yards, and been about to spring either at him or the dog, when the
fierce, snarling growls made it alter its intention.

They say that discretion is the better part of valour, and it would be
hard to set Dyke's movement in retreat down to cowardice, especially
when it is considered that he was almost blind in the darkness, while
his enemy was provided by nature with optics which were at their best in
the gloom of night.

Dyke moved back into the house, where, partly sheltered, and with the
dog close to his feet, watchful as he was himself, and ready to give
warning of danger, he waited, listening for the next sound.

This was long in coming, for the lions seemed to have been scared away
by the report of the piece--it was too much to believe that