"We must put a stop to this, father," he said. "Can’t we set a trap?" "We’ll see what our friend Bill says," replied Mr. Halliday. The Wanderobbo’s name had proved so unpronounceable that he had been called Bill for short. Bill, however, said that lions were too clever to be caught in traps, which did not seem improbable when he explained what he meant by a trap--a simple pit with a sharpened stick at the bottom, like that in which Oliver Browne had been found, or a spear suspended from the branch of a tree and brought down by the animal treading on a rope. Mr. Halliday set to work to devise a more effective machine. He got the mistris to cut several stout logs, out of which they constructed a sort of gigantic rat-trap. The door was arranged so that it was held in position by a light pole attached to a length of stout wire, which was connected with a spring hidden under leaves on the floor of the trap. If a lion should enter and tread on the spring, the wire would be released and the door fall behind him down two grooves of corrugated iron. To entice him to enter, a live goat was placed in a compartment adjoining the trap, so strongly fenced that the bait was in no danger. This trap was rigged up, with the expenditure of a day’s work, at one corner of the outer boma. "It’s rather poor sport to treat the lion like a rat," said John, "but that can’t be helped. If we catch one we shan’t be able to get a good shot at him in the dark, though." "Well, we can either keep him there till daylight, or, better still, burn a bit of magnesium wire--I’ve plenty; that will not only give us a good light, but possibly help to scare other beasts away." The trap was set. For two nights nothing happened. On the third, just as the two Englishmen were thinking of turning in, they heard the door of the trap fall with a clatter, followed by a low growl of rage. They caught up their rifles and hurried to the spot. "Now for the wire, father," said John. "You give me a light and I’ll pot the beast." Mr. Halliday struck a match and ignited the wire, but just as John was taking aim it fell to the ground. "What’s the matter?" he asked. "I’m as nervous as a cat," said his father, with a rueful laugh. "And I haven’t brought a second piece, confound it!" "Well, we’ll take a shot in the dark. We can’t both miss."