it cleared away, the boy had another clear
view of the beast end on, and fired once more.

At this there was a savage snarl; the lion made a bound sidewise, and
then swung round as if to charge back at its assailant, when Breezy tore
off at full speed, but had not gone fifty yards before another shot rang
out, and Dyke looked round to see his brother dismounted and kneeling on
the sand, while the lion was trailing itself along with its
hind-quarters paralysed.

In another minute Emson had remounted and ridden up to the dangerous
beast; there was another report from close quarters, and the lion rolled
over and straightened itself out.

"Dead?" cried Dyke excitedly, as he mastered Breezy's objections, and
rode up.

"Yes; he'll kill no more of our oxen, old chap," cried his brother.
"Well done, little un! You stopped him splendidly. That last shot of
yours brought him up for me to finish."

"Think I hit him, then?"

"Think?" said Emson, laughing. "You can easily prove it. Your bullet
must have hit him end on. Mine were on his left flank."

"He _is_ dead, isn't he?" said Dyke dubious.

"As dead as he can well be," said Emson, dismounting, and throwing his
rein over his horse's head. "Yes; here we are. Your bullet caught him
half-way up the back here; one of mine hit him in the side, and here's
the other right through the left shoulder-blade. That means finis. But
that shot of yours regularly paralysed him behind. _Your_ lion, little
un, and that skin will do for your museum. It's a beauty."

"But _you_ killed him," said the boy modestly.

"Put him out of his misery, that's all. He is a splendid fellow,
though. But he won't run away now, little un.--Let's get on."

"But his skin?" said Dyke eagerly.

"Too hard a job now, Dyke, under this sun. We'll come over this evening
with Jack, and strip that off. Now for the eggs."

CHAPTER SEVEN.

LIFE ON THE VELDT.

The task of finding the emptied ostrich nest proved harder than they
expected; but their ride across the barren plain was made interesting by
the sight of a herd of gnus and a couple of the beautiful black
antelope, with their long, gracefully curved, sharp horns. Just before
reaching the nest, too, they had the rather unusual sight, in their
part, of half-a-dozen giraffes, which went off in their awkward,
lumbering trot toward the north.

At last, though, the nest was reached, the scattered eggs gathered into
the net, and heedless