gun and hurriedly pulled out the old case, which, to judge from what
ensued, must, I suppose, have burst and left a portion of its fabric
sticking to the barrel. At any rate, when I tried to get in the new
cartridge it would only enter half-way; and--would you believe it?--this
was the moment that the lioness, attracted no doubt by the outcry of her
cub, chose to put in an appearance. There she stood, twenty paces or so
from me, lashing her tail and looking just as wicked as it is possible
to conceive. Slowly I stepped backwards, trying to push in the new case,
and as I did so she moved on in little runs, dropping down after each
run. The danger was imminent, and the case would not go in. At the
moment I oddly enough thought of the cartridge maker, whose name I will
not mention, and earnestly hoped that if the lion got _me_ some condign
punishment would overtake _him_. It would not go in, so I tried to pull
it out. It would not come out either, and my gun was useless if I could
not shut it to use the other barrel. I might as well have had no gun.

"Meanwhile I was walking backward, keeping my eye on the lioness, who
was creeping forward on her belly without a sound, but lashing her tail
and keeping her eye on me; and in it I saw that she was coming in a
few seconds more. I dashed my wrist and the palm of my hand against the
brass rim of the cartridge till the blood poured from them--look, there
are the scars of it to this day!"

Here Quatermain held up his right hand to the light and showed us four
or five white cicatrices just where the wrist is set into the hand.

"But it was not of the slightest use," he went on; "the cartridge would
not move. I only hope that no other man will ever be put in such an
awful position. The lioness gathered herself together, and I gave myself
up for lost, when suddenly Tom shouted out from somewhere in my rear--

"'You are walking on to the wounded cub; turn to the right.'

"I had the sense, dazed as I was, to take the hint, and slewing round at
right-angles, but still keeping my eyes on the lioness, I continued my
backward walk.

"To my intense relief, with a low growl she straightened herself,
turned, and bounded further up the kloof.

"'Come on, Inkoos,' said Tom, 'let's get back to the waggon.'

"'All right, Tom,' I answered. 'I will when I have killed those three
other lions,' for by this time I was bent on shooting them as I never
remember being bent on anything before or si