Act 4 — BLOCKADED BY A LION.

BY DAVID KER.

"Now, monsieur," says old Major De Launay, pointing to the vast jungle of monstrous reeds fringing the African coast far as the eye can reach, as the Tunis steamer heads seaward out of Bona Harbor, "if you want some sport, take a gun and go in among those reeds, and you may be sure of not having long to wait before you find yourself face to face with a lion."

"A lion?" echo I. "Why, I thought they had all been killed off long ago."

"So they have everywhere else along the coast; but just here, as you see, it's a wild kind of country, and Monsieur Yellowmane has it all his own way. There are plenty of brave fellows among our Arabs here, and we Frenchmen don't consider ourselves cowards; but I can tell you that you won't find a man in all this district, Arab or Frenchman, who would go through those reeds after night-fall—no, not if you were to offer him a thousand francs."

"Wouldn't you do it yourself, then, M. De Launay?" ask I, rather surprised at such an avowal from a man whose reckless courage is a proverb throughout the length and breadth of Algeria.

"No, that I wouldn't," answers the old soldier, emphatically. "I've tried it once already, and I can promise you I won't easily forget how that adventure ended. Would you like to hear the story? Well, then, here it is for you:"

Some thirty years ago, when I was a good deal nimbler than I am now (and a good deal sillier too, I'm afraid), a lot of us were quartered at Bona, with nothing much to do except taking charge of some stores; and as always happens with young officers when there's not enough duty on hand to keep them steady, we weren't long in getting into mischief. One day at mess somebody brought up this story of the reed jungle, and how no one dared go into it, and we all began joking each other about who should be the man to face the lions.

"De Launay's the one to do it!" cried Alphonse St. Foix, a young sub-lieutenant. "He's afraid of nothing. Don't you remember how he led the assault at Constantine?"

"It would hardly be a fair trial, though," said our senior Major, in his polite way; "for the lions would undoubtedly let him pass as one of themselves."

"Or if he were to put on a lion's hide," chimed in Claude Latour (who must have his joke, whatever happened), "they'd never find him out so long as he didn't bray."

At that there was a general laugh, which put me out so much that (more shame for me) I fairly lost my temper.

"Well," cried I, springing up, "for that one word I'll go and do the thing this very night, and then it shall be seen which of us is the lion, and which the ass."

"Agreed! agreed!" shouted all, clapping their hands, and hallooing like madmen.

But poor Claude looked quite chop-fallen, for he had never intended to push the joke so far, and the moment we rose from table he came up to me and held out his hand.

"For Heaven's sake, Henri," said he, "don't go and get yourself killed just for that foolish joke of mine, which I ought to have bitten my tongue off sooner than utter. I never dreamed you'd take it so seriously, and I'm heartily sorry to have vexed you."

I answered not a word, but just looked him straight in the eyes for a moment, and then turned my back and walked off. Many a time have I been sorry for it since then, for the poor fellow was killed by those rascally Kabyles (Arabs) a few months later; but one always repents of these things too late.

Well, night came at last, and every officer who wasn't on duty turned out to see me start. It had been arranged that I was to set off a little after midnight, and that my comrades were to see me into the jungle at a point close to the sea, and then come to meet me about sunrise at another point farther inland. The whole length of my circuit through the reeds would be only a little over two miles, but this, in a tract where one step was generally supposed to be certain death, was thought quite sufficient.

I took my double-barrelled rifle and hunting knife (not that they could be much good against a whole jungle of lions), and the moment our watches pointed to half past twelve, off we started. I couldn't help thinking as we went along that there could hardly have been a worse night for the purpose, so far as I was concerned. The night was so still that you might have heard a step hundreds of yards away, and the full moon gave light enough to make out the smallest print of a newspaper, let alone the figure of a man. But, as we say, "when you've broken the shell, you must eat the egg"; so I kept my thoughts to myself, and tramped on.

It was a pretty long march, and a difficult too, down to the place for which we were bound. By the time we got there it was two o'clock, leaving less than two hours before sunrise. At last the great reed forest began to rise before us, shadowy and spectral in the moonlight. My comrades shook me by the hand, and wished me good-speed. In another moment the reeds had closed behind me.

Just at first I didn't feel it so much, for the excitement of the adventure kept me up; and, besides, I had quite enough to do in picking my way along, the reeds being a good deal higher than my head, and very nearly as thick as a man's wrist. But when the first excitement began to wear off, then it all came upon me at once, just like the shock of a shower-bath. Every time a reed rustled I seemed to feel the sharp teeth in my flesh already; and indeed it's a wonder how I ever escaped, for I could hear them moving on every side of me; but somehow or other none of them offered to touch me.

On I went—on, on, on—until I seemed to have done ten miles instead of two. In fact, I afterward found that I had gone far beyond the prescribed distance; but what could I do, with the reed-tops shutting out the very sky, until sometimes I had hardly any moon to steer by? At last the reeds began to grow thinner, and presently, just as I was getting fairly tired out, forth I came on to the open plain, with the first gleam of daybreak just dawning in the eastern sky.

Then I discovered, to my very great disgust, that instead of striking the point where my comrades were to meet me, I had gone ever so far beyond it.

"Well," thought I, "there's time enough yet, at all events, before sunrise. I'll just sit down and rest for five minutes, and then walk back to the meeting-place."

So down I sat upon a rock, and, as you might expect, was fast asleep directly.

I don't know how long I slept; but I awoke suddenly with that uneasy feeling which you sometimes have when somebody stands by your bedside and looks fixedly down upon you as you sleep. And sure enough somebody was looking fixedly down upon me; for when my eyes opened they rested upon the biggest lion I'd ever seen in my life.

I took in the full horror of the situation at a glance. My gun had slid down over the smooth rock, and was lying fully six feet away, with the beast right between me and it. My comrades, even if they hadn't got tired of waiting and gone home (as they most likely had), were too far off to be summoned by any shout. Add to this that I was already parched with thirst, and that the sun was mounting, and making the rock on which I lay hotter and hotter every moment, and you'll have some idea of the nice predicament that I was in.

It's an awkward confession for an old soldier to make, but I must admit that I fairly lost my head. All hope of escaping went out of my mind at once; my only thought was to throw myself upon the lion, and get it over as soon as possible. But as I put my hand behind me to raise myself up, it struck against a big stone.

In a moment, as if some one had spoken it in my ear, I got the idea of a device that might save me yet. I clutched the stone, and keeping it well behind my back (for I knew that any sudden movement would bring the lion upon me at once), jerked it from me so as to let it fall among the reeds. At the crash that it made, the lion turned like lightning, and gave a spring in that direction, and I gave another, right across the rock to where my gun was lying. I had barely seized it, when the beast turned upon me.

After that it was all like a confused dream. The rush of the huge tawny body, the glare of the yellow eyes into mine, and the hot, foul breath steaming on my face, the flash and crack of my piece, the lion's hoarse, bubbling growl, and the report of my second barrel, seemed all to come together. I remember nothing distinctly until I found myself leaning upon my rifle, sick and dizzy, as if I'd fallen out of a window, with the lion dead at my feet.

Just then my comrades, startled by the shots, came running up. I was glad then that they hadn't seen me in my difficulty, although I wouldn't have thought it an intrusion, a few minutes before, if the whole French army had come up in a body. They praised me up to the skies, and insisted on carrying off the skin as a trophy. But when our old Colonel heard the story, he shook his head, and looked at me in a way that made me feel rather ashamed of myself.

"M. De Launay," said he, very gravely, "to risk one's life in the cause of duty is the act of a brave man; to risk it uselessly, for the sake of a mere boast, is that of a fool. Always remember that in future."

And I have remembered it ever since.

A SCHOOL IN THE WOODS.—Drawn by A. Hoohstein.