Certainly nothing could have been narrower, for, enraged by its failure, the lion was in full pursuit, keeping up bound after bound; but swiftly as it launched itself forward, its speed fell short of the pace at which the brave little cob swept over the sand, spurning it at every effort in a blinding shower right in the lion's face, while d.y.k.e, lying prostrate, clinging with hand and knee, was in momentary expectation of being thrown off.

The pursuit was not kept up for more than three hundred yards. Then the lion stopped short, and sent forth a series of its thunderous, full-throated roars, every one making Breezy start and plunge frantically forward, with the sweat darkening its satin coat.

But the danger was past, and for the next ten minutes d.y.k.e strove hard to master a hysterical sensation of a desire to sob; and then gaining strength, and beginning to breathe with less effort, he drew himself up erect, and tried by voice and caress to slacken the frightened animal's headlong speed.

"Wo-ho, lad! wo-ho, lad!" he cried, and the speed slackened into a canter.

"My word!" muttered the boy to himself, "I don't know how I managed to stick on!"

Ten minutes later he managed to stop the cob, and sliding off wearily, he stroked and patted its reeking neck, unbuckled and slipped in the bit, attached the reins to the loose side, and arranged them ready for mounting. Then dragging the saddle back into its place, he properly tightened the girths, and gave two or three searching glances backward the while.

But the lion, far or near, was well hidden, and they were well out in one of the barest parts of the plain, which now spread tenantless as far as eye could reach, while the eland was quite out of sight.

And now, as he proceeded to mount, d.y.k.e awoke to the fact that his back was bruised sore by the gun, which had beaten him heavily; he was drenched with perspiration; and it was an effort to lift his foot to the stirrup, his knees being terribly stiff. He was conscious, too, of a strange feeling of weariness of both mind and body, and as he sank into the saddle he uttered a low sigh.

But he recovered a bit directly, and turning the cob's head, began to ride slowly in the direction of Kopfontein, whose granite pile lay like an ant-hill far away, low down on the eastern horizon.

He was too tired to think; but he noted in a dull, half-stunned way that the sun was getting very low, and it struck him that unless he hurried on, darkness would overtake him long before he could get home.

But it did not seem to matter; and though it hurt him a little, there was something very pleasant in the easy, rocking motion of Breezy's cantering stride, while the wind swept, cool and soft, against his cheeks.

Then he began to think about the events of the day--his narrow escape, which seemed to be dreamlike now, and to belong to the past; next he found himself wondering where the dog was, and whether it had found his cartridge pouch. Lastly, he thought of Emson, and his ride back to fetch Jack and the oxen--a long task, for the bullocks were so slow and deliberate at every pace.

But it did not seem to matter, for everything was very restful and pleasant, as the golden sun sent the shadow of himself and horse far away along the plain. He was safe, for the lion could be laughed at by any one well mounted as he was then. At last the pleasant sensation of safety was combined with a dull restfulness that grew and grew, till, moving gently in that canter over the soft sand, which hushed the cob's paces to a dull throb, the glow in the west became paler and paler, and then dark.

Then bright again, for d.y.k.e recovered himself with a jerk, and sat upright, staring.

"I do believe I was dropping off to sleep," he muttered. "That won't do. I shall be off.--Go on, Breezy, old boy. You had a good long rest, and didn't have to crawl on your knees. How far is it now?"

Far enough, for the kopje was only just visible against the sky.

But again it did not seem to matter, for all grew dull again. d.y.k.e had kept on nodding forward, and was jerked up again, but only for him to begin nodding again. Soon after he made a lurch to the left, and Breezy ceased cantering, and gave himself a hitch. Then followed a lurch to the right, and the cob gave himself another hitch to keep his master upon his back, progressing afterwards at a steady walk, balancing his load: for d.y.k.e was fast asleep, with the reins slack and his chin down upon his chest, and kept in his place by the natural clinging of his knees, and the easy movement of the sagacious beast he rode. But all at once he lurched forward, and instinctively clung to the horse's neck, with the result that Breezy stopped short, and began to crop the shoots of the bushes, only moving a step or two from time to time.

CHAPTER TWELVE.

d.y.k.e IS AGGRIEVED.

"Fine chance for a lion," said Emson, as at dusk he left the oxen, being slowly driven by Kaffir Jack, and cantered off to his left to draw rein in front of d.y.k.e, the boy sitting upright with a start.

"Eh?"

"I say a fine chance for a lion," cried Emson again.

"No: couldn't catch,"--_snore_.

"Here! Hi! Little one. Wake up!" cried Emson.

"Yes; all right!--What's the matter?"

"Matter? why, you're asleep, you stupid fellow: a lion might have come upon you in that state."

"Lion? Come upon? Did--did you speak to me?" said d.y.k.e thickly.

"Speak to you? of course. Why, you foolish, careless fellow, what was the matter? Afraid to stay by the game?"

d.y.k.e looked at him drowsily, striving to catch all that had been said, but only partially grasping the meaning.

"Don't know--what you mean," he said thickly.

"I mean it was very cowardly of you to forsake your charge, boy," said Emson sternly. "It's vital for us to save that meat, and I trusted you to watch it. Now you've come away, and it will be horribly mauled by the jackals; perhaps we shall find half a hundred vultures feeding upon it when we get there. Hang it, d.y.k.e! you might have stayed till I came back."

d.y.k.e was too much confused to make any reply. Utterly exhausted as he had been, his deep sleep seemed to still hold him, and he sat gazing vacantly at his brother, who added in a tone full of contempt:

"There, don't stare at me in that idiotic way. Come along; let's try and save something. Look sharp! One of us must ride on, or we shall not find it before it's dark."

d.y.k.e rode beside him in silence, for Breezy eagerly joined his stable companion, and in a short time they were up to, and then pa.s.sed Jack with his plodding oxen, which were drawing a rough sledge, something similar to that which a farmer at home uses for the conveyance of a plough from field to field.

The angry look soon pa.s.sed away from Emson's face, and he turned to d.y.k.e.

"There, look up, old chap," he said; "don't pull a phiz like that."

d.y.k.e was still half stupefied by sleep, but he had grasped his brother's former words, and these were uppermost, rankling still in his mind as he said heavily:

"You talked about the jackals and vultures, Joe."

"Yes, yes; but I was in a pet, little un--vexed at the idea of losing our stock of good fresh meat. That's all over now, so say no more about it. Began to think I was never coming, didn't you? Well, I was long."

Emson might just as well have held his tongue, for nothing he now said was grasped by d.y.k.e, who could think of nothing else but the former words, and he repeated himself:

"You talked about the jackals and vultures, Joe."

"Yes, yes, I did; but never mind now, old chap."

"But you didn't say a word about the lions."

"What?" cried Emson excitedly. "You have had no lions there, surely?"

"Yes," said d.y.k.e, bitterly now, for he was waking up, and felt deeply aggrieved. "Two great beasts."

"But in open day?"

d.y.k.e nodded.

"Then why didn't you fire? A shot or two would have scared them away."

"Yes," continued the boy in the same bitter tone; "but you can't fire when your gun's empty, and you have no cartridges."