Then, springing up, he ran to where Breezy raised his head with a pleasant whinny of welcome, took the water-bottle he always carried from where it was strapped to the back of the saddle, and returned to the cooking. "Done to a turn," he cried, as he caught up the two pieces of wood which held the steak, bore his dinner away a few yards from the fire, sat down holding the skewers ready, and then placing his cake bread in his lap, he began to cut off pieces of the meat. "De--licious!" he sighed, "but a trifle hot," and then everything was resolved into the question of meat--rich, tender, juicy meat--glorious to one whose fare had been dry, leathery, rather tainted biltong for a long while past. Dyke ate as he had never eaten before, till the last fragment was reached--a peculiarly crisp, brown, tempting-looking piece adhering to one of the skewers. This he held back for a few moments in company with the last piece of mealie cake, wishing the while that he had cooked more, and brought a larger piece of the cake. "Roast beef's nothing to it," he said softly. "Wish old Joe had been here to have a bit while it's so tender, and poor old Duke, too. Never mind, he shall have double allowance when he does come--triple if he brings my pouch. I wonder whether he has found it. It's wonderful what he can do in that way." He raised his eyes to gaze in the direction taken by the dog as he sat there near the fire, and the huge carcass of the eland behind him, and then he seemed to have been suddenly turned into stone--sitting with the bit of cake in one hand, the skewer in the other, staring, with white rings round his eyes, straight at a full-grown, handsomely maned lion, standing about twenty yards away, gazing at him straight in the face. CHAPTER TEN. THE HUNTER HUNTED. Dyke was completely paralysed in body, but his mind was wonderfully active, and he noted that the horse even had not divined the approach of the great beast, but was puffing away with snorting breath at the insects upon the tender shoots, and browsing contentedly enough, while the lion had stolen softly up nearer and nearer, without a sound, after perhaps following on the track of the antelopes for weeks, and taking toll from time to time, which might have accounted for its sleek condition and glistening hide. In spite of the feeling of horror which chilled the boy, he could not help admiring the beauty of the magnificent beast before him, with its full flowing mane, and sunny, yellowish eyeballs intently watching him, as the long lithe tail, with its black tuft of long hairs at the tip, swung to and fro, now seen upon the left side, now upon the right, in other respects the great animal being as motionless as the boy. For many moments Dyke could not even breathe, but at last he uttered a gasp, followed by a sharp, catching sound, as he inspired with a sob, and the lion raised the hair about his ears, as if to frown, and uttered a low, deep, growling noise.