"Thank you, Aissa," said the lion; and in three leaps he disappeared in the wood.

"Oh!" said the young girl, a little annoyed in her turn, "he will not conduct me back to-day."

It is needless to say that the story of this second rencontre excited as much interest as the first; but, however learned the commentaries of the most skilful talebs of the douair were, the intentions of the lion remained mysterious and hidden to the most penetrating minds.

Another month elapsed. The young girl went back to the forest. But scarcely had she begun to cut the wood when a bush opened before her and the lion came forth out of it, no longer civil as he was the first time, nor even melancholy as he was the second, but gloomy and almost threatening.

The young girl felt an inclination to run away, but the lion's look nailed her feet to the ground. It was he that approached her; she would have fallen to the ground if she had attempted to take a step.

Look at my forehead," said the lion.

'My lord must remember that it was he who ordered me to strike."

"Yes; and I thanked you. It is not of that I came to speak to you. It is to ask you to look at it.'

"I am looking at it."

"How is it going on?"

Marvellously well, my lord; it is almost healed."

"That shows, Aissa," said the lion, "that wounds inflicted on the body are very different from those that are inflicted on pride: the first heal after a time; the others, never."

This philosophical axiom was followed by a sharp and painful cry, and then nothing further was heard.

Three days afterwards, Aissa's father, beating the forest to discover some traces of his daughter, found the hatchet with which she used to cut wood near a large pool of blood.

But of Aissa, neither he nor any one else ever heard anything more.

The Arab had just finished his legend when the loud roar of a lion shook the nerves more or less of all the auditors. M. Jules Gérard seized his Devismes and his Duc d'Aumale-he names his rifles from the donors or manufacturers-and issued forth from the tent. The lion was a little

more than a mile's off. It must, he opined, be the one he had been so long in search of. He had ceased to roar, but still they made towards him. At half a mile's distance they fell in with a crowd of Arabs and dogs. The lion had broken into their douair and carried off a sheep. He was now eating his dinner, hence the sudden cessation of his roars. This was not a propitious moment to attack him; lions do not like to be disturbed at their meals, so M. Gérard contented himself with bidding the Arabs follow his tracks, always easy to mark out when he has carried off a sheep, and he returned to his tent.

There is a tradition concerning this, peculiarly in the matter of lion and sheep, which deserves to be recorded:

One day a lion was talking with the marabut, Sidi Moussa. If the lion is the most powerful of animals, the marabut was the most holy of dervishes. Man and animal conversed, therefore, on a par.

"You are very strong," said the marabut to the lion.

66

Yes, very strong."

"What is the measure of your strength ?"

"That of forty horses."

"Then you can take an ox, throw it over your shoulder, and carry it away?"

inquired the marabut.

"With the help of God, I can," replied the lion.

"And a horse likewise ?"

"With the help of God I can do with a horse as I do with an ox." "And a sheep?"

The lion laughed. "I should think so indeed!" said he.

But at the first sheep that he tried to carry off the lion was much surprised to find that he could not throw it over his shoulder, as he did with many animals that were much heavier, and that he was obliged to drag it along the ground.

This came from the circumstance, that in his pride he had forgotten to say, in reference to sheep, which appeared too small game to be worthy of notice, what he had said of the ox and the horse-" with the help of God!"

M. Gérard had not been long back in his tent before the owner of the sheep arrived out of breath. He had followed the traces and ascertained proximatively the position of the lion. It was agreed that the hunt should take place the first thing next morning. At break of day accordingly, two vigorous middle-aged Arabs, Bilkassen and Amar Ben Sarah by name, were sent out to reconnoitre, and to ascertain the immediate whereabouts of the animal. This they after some difficulties succeeded in doing, and having brought in their reports to the lion-killer he went forth a few minutes before sunset.

It is the time when the Arabs, if they have a lion in their neighbourhood, invariably keep to their tents. From sunset to dawn, an Arab, who has heard the roar of a lion, has a great repugnance to putting a foot out of doors. It is, on the contrary, the time that I prefer, for this very reason, that it is that at which the lion awakes and begins to move about in search of prey.

When I arrived at the spot indicated by Amar Ben Sarah, I had still about a quarter of an hour's daylight to enable me to examine the landscape. I stood at the entrance of a narrow ravine in the Aurès mountains; both slopes of the mountains, as well as the bottom of the ravine, were clothed with wood-pines, firs, and evergreen oaks. Naked rocks, still burning with the heat of day, rose up above this mass of verdure like the bones of a great giant imperfectly buried.

We advanced into the ravine, Ben-Sarah acting as guide. The latter dragged an unfortunate goat along with him, which was intended as a bait for the lion, and which made all kinds of difficulties about accompanying us.

At a distance of about fifty paces from the lair there was a little glade. I selected it, as in a duel one selects the place where the combat is to be given. Amar cut down a small tree, stuck it into the centre of the glade, and then fastened the goat to it, leaving about a yard and a half of rope.

Whilst Amar Ben-Sarah was doing this we heard a prolonged gape at about fifty yards' distance. It was the lion, which, only half aroused, looked at us and gaped away.

The cries of the goat had awakened him. Otherwise he lay quietly enough at the foot of a rock, passing his gory tongue over his thick lips. He was magnificent in his calm contempt for us.

I hastened to send away my men-who were not sorry for being dismissedand who took up a station at a distance of about two or three hundred paces behind me. Amida alone insisted upon keeping me company. I then examined the locality closely.

I was separated from the lion by a ravine. The glade was about forty-five paces in circumference, and consequently about fifteen in diameter. It remained to select a position. I placed myself on the fringe of the wood, keeping the goat between me and the lion, which was about sixty paces off.

Whilst I was making these little arrangements the lion disappeared; there was, therefore, no time to lose in preparing to receive him, as he might be upon me in a moment. An oak presented me with what I always search for in such a

crisis-a resting-place. I cut off such branches as might impede my sight or my movements, and sat down at its foot.

Scarcely had I done so when I perceived, by the anxiety of the goat, that something was taking place. The goat was dragging the rope with its whole strength in my direction, at the same time that it was looking the opposite

way.

I then knew that the lion had made a circuit to get into the ravine, and that he was nearing us, favoured by the slope. Nor was I wrong. In a few minutes I perceived its monstrous head peeping over the bank, soon followed by his shoulders, and then by his whole body. He advanced slowly, his eyes sleepy. A lion is indeed a sleepy, idle beast. He was now seven paces from the goat and fifteen from me.

I had remained seated, keeping my rifle on him. Once having had time to take aim between the two eyes, my finger pressed upon the trigger, and I was about to pull. Had I yielded to the wish I might, in all probability, have saved a man's life. But seeing no disposition on the part of the animal to attack me, I waited in indulgence of that terrible voluptuousness which is only to be found in the presence of danger and in the sense of braving it.

Besides, I have another object in view in prolonging these strange temporisings: it is to study the animal, to make a step farther in the knowledge of its manners, for a single additional discovery in the character of such an adversary is one chance the less of being eaten up by him.

For ten long minutes I gave myself up to the enjoyment of a tête-à-tête such as few men can boast of. This was all the more permitted to me, as it was now nearly two years since I had found myself face to face with a lion, and this was one of the finest, the strongest, and the most majestic that I had seen.

At the expiration of the ten minutes he crouched down, crossed his legs, and, stretching out his head, made a kind of pillow of them for his neck. His eye was fixed on me, and never for a moment did he lose sight of my eyes; he seemed wondrously puzzled to think what that man could come to do in his kingdom, and who seemed not to recognise his sovereignty.

Five minutes more elapsed; in the position that he then lay nothing would have been more easy for me than to kill him. Suddenly he rose up, as if pushed by a spring, and began to agitate himself, making one step in advance and then another back, turning to the right and then to the left, all the time wagging his tail like a cat that is getting angry. No doubt he did not understand the presence of a cord, a goat, and a man; his intelligence did not suffice to explain such a mystical combination. Only his instinct told him that there was a trap laid for him.

In the mean time I remained seated, my rifle up to my shoulder, my finger on the trigger, following the animal in all its motions. One spring on his part, and I was under his claws. Every moment his irritation increased, and it began even to affect me; his tail swept his sides, his motions became more rapid, his flamed with ire. It would have been suicide to hesitate any longer.

eye

I took advantage of a moment when he presented his left side towards me; I aimed behind the shoulder-blade, and fired. The lion shrank under the blow, roared with pain, and curved round as if to bite the wound, but he did not fall. Three seconds had barely elapsed before I fired my second shot. Then, without looking for I was quite sure of having hit him-I threw down my rifle, to take up another near me ready loaded and cocked.

But when I turned round towards the lion, the butt-end up to my shoulder, the lion was gone. I remained motionless, dreading a surprise, and looking on all sides.

I then heard the lion roar. He had gone down into the ravine. Twice he roared again, each time at a greater distance. He was going back to his lair. I waited a few minutes longer, perhaps it was only a few seconds-one is a bad judge of time under such circumstances. Then hearing nothing further, I rose up and went to visit the spot where the animal had received my two shots. The

goat had lain down and gasped with terror. It was easy to see further that the fion had been struck by both balls, and that both had gone right through its body. There were two jets of blood on each side.

Every sportsman knows that an animal bears up better when he is thus pierced from side to side, than when the ball, remaining in the body, gives rise to internal hemorrhage. I followed his traces; they were easy to find. The road that he had taken was spotted with blood. The branches of the shrubs and plants by which he had passed were also stained with blood. As I had thought, the lion had gone to his lair.

At this moment I saw appear over the ravine the heads of Amida, Belkassem, and Amar Ben Sarah. They approached cautiously, not knowing if I was alive or dead, and in readiness to fire. Seeing me at the bottom of the ravine, they shouted in token of gladness, and ran up to me.

They insisted upon at once following up the lion: the quantity of blood shed made them exaggerate the gravity of the wounds. But I kept them back. In my opinion the lion was grievously, perhaps mortally wounded, but the heart had not been struck. The lion must still have strength, its agony would be terrible.

During the suspense, eight or ten Arabs joined us from the douair, armed with guns. They had heard my two shots, and came, like Amida, Belkassem, and Amar Ben Sarah, to know what had happened. That which had occurred was written for them, as for us, on the soil.

Their unanimous exclamation was, "He must be followed up."

But I stopped them, pointing out the danger of such a proceeding. It had, however, no effect.

Remain there, they said, and we will bring him to you dead.

It was in vain that I stated that the lion was alive, and that by his roar he was still full of strength; they persisted in going into the wood.

I made a last effort to prevent them going further; I was convinced that if we waited till the next day we should find him dead, whilst, on the contrary, if we followed him up now, we should go and throw ourselves, at the distance of some hundred paces, in contact with his anger and pain-and every one knew what the result would be.

But no advice had any effect on their obstinacy. So when I saw that they were resolved to go in pursuit of the lion without me, I made up my mind to go with them.

Only I made my arrangements. I reloaded my Devismes, which I kept in my own hands; I gave my Lepage to Ben Sarah, and my Duc d'Aumale to Amida. It is, after my Devismes, the rifle that I prefer it has killed thirteen lions-and I entered into the wood on the traces of the lion. It was now dark. The wood was dense, thick, entangled; we had to advance step by step. My three Arabs followed me; behind my three Arabs came the men of the douair. We got over some forty or fifty paces in this way, but with great difficulty, and in about a quarter of an hour's time. By that time it was almost quite dark, and we could no longer discern the tracks.

There was a glade at a dozen paces' distance, and we all made to it to take breath and look around us.

Whilst we were scattered about the glade, seeking for the tracks that were lost in the dim light, either by accident or carelessness a gun went off.

At the same moment a terrible roar burst forth, and the lion tumbled down into the midst of us, literally as if he had fallen from the skies.

For a moment the panic was frightful. All the guns except mine went off at once, and it is a miracle that we did not kill one another. It is needless to say that not a ball struck the lion.

As to myself, this is what I saw amidst the fire and smoke: all the Arabs gathered round me, with the exception of Amar Ben Sarah.

Then suddenly I heard at a distance of some fifteen paces, on the other side of the glade, a scream, a terrible scream, the scream of death!

I rushed towards the scream through the darkness, rendered still more dense by the smoke. Such was its density, that I could neither see man nor lion, till I came in contact with them.

Man and lion formed a shapeless, hideous mass.

The man was under the lion, who was tearing his thighs with his hind-claws, whilst the whole of his head was buried in his mouth.

I felt faint for a moment, my legs trembled beneath me, I was nearly falling. But the weakness only lasted a second.

The lion felt the barrel of my rifle, and cast a side look with a threatening expression at me.

I fired at the shoulder.

Should I fire at the head of the lion? should I fire at its shoulder?
If I fired at the head, I might kill the man.
All this did not occupy a second of time.
smoke.

And then all was lost in fire and

I waited a moment. I will not attempt to describe what passed through my mind during that second of anxiety.

At last I could see. The lion had let the man go. The man had fallen like a mass. Was he dead or living? That it was impossible to say.

The lion was leaning against a tree, the same that supported the man, and it was evident that he had to depend upon the tree, which was not larger round than a man's leg, for his sole support.

The tree gave way gradually, cracked, and then broke, and the lion fell down on the ground beside the man.

I then pulled the second trigger, the capsule failed. pened to me, if this second capsule had been the first? Luckily, the lion was dead."

What would have hap

We precipitated ourselves on the man, he had fainted; but on being touched, he regained his senses.

"Take me away!" he exclaimed-"take me away!"

It was in vain that we told him that the lion was dead, he did not hear us. The Arabs say that every man who has inhaled a lion's breath goes mad. Amar Ben Sarah was mad.

I began by examining the wounds as well as I could by the light of a bundle of dry sticks, to which we hastened to set fire.

The sides of the sufferer's body were horribly torn; he had been fearfully bitten in the flanks. His head also bore the marks of the animal's teeth. It was manifest that he was a lost man.

We laid him upon a litter made with our guns, and we carried him away from the scene of the disaster. Three days afterwards, I left the country; he was still alive, but without hope. A letter from the Kaïd informed me eight days afterwards that Amar Ben Sarah was dead.

The inconsistency between the two legends, if we may be allowed the expression, is manifest. There is nothing in the strange record of the relations of the fair Aissa with a lion, or in the subsequent tragic fate of that unfortunate damsel, that bears out what we are subsequently told is the received tradition among the Arabs, of the influence of the lion's breath. Any one intimate with the peculiarity of the Arab mind will feel that the allusion is simply a figurative one. It intimates that per

sons who are thrown into such close contact with that fierce animal as is implied by coming within the sphere of its breath, are so overcome by terror or fascinated by fear as virtually to lose their senses; just as they say, the wounds received from a lion are fatal; meaning thereby, that they are of such a serious character that a person seldom recovers from them. The poetical and figurative language of the Arabs delights in extremes, but it is quite understood among themselves that it is not always meant to convey all that it seems to imply.