Having ensured the safety of the cub, Dick, carrying his own and the spare rifle which he had snatched from Mafuta, hurried back to the point which he had so hurriedly deserted; for the commotion in the heart of the bush clearly evidenced the fact that the remaining members of the troop of lions still clung to cover, and that the beaters and dogs were doing their utmost to dislodge them. Laying the spare rifle at his feet, Dick stood facing the great clump, with the rifle in his hand at the ready, prepared for any emergency. The noise and confusion, however, seemed to indicate that the next event would occur in the area under Grosvenor's jurisdiction, and, sure enough, about a minute later another lion and lioness broke cover together, followed by the remainder of the dogs. The noble beasts, both of which were apparently young animals, and but barely full-grown, evidently intended to make for fresh cover in the ravine, but, finding Grosvenor blocking the way, came to a sudden halt, upon which the dogs instantly gathered round them, yapping and snarling furiously, while individual members made sudden feints of dashing in, only to retreat precipitately with their tails between their legs as the infuriated beasts turned this way and that to meet the rush. The crowding, clamouring dogs, with their quick rushes, and the incessant twists and turns of the regal pair to meet those rushes, were anything but conducive to good shooting, and Grosvenor, with rifle to shoulder, held his fire, watching for a favourable opportunity. Suddenly it came: a dog more venturesome than the rest sprang at the lion, and was caught by him. Planting both his front paws on the body of the unhappy cur, the lion stood for a moment glaring at his foes, and in that moment Grosvenor pulled trigger, the bullet striking the great beast full in his massive chest. For perhaps a quarter of a minute the lion stood absolutely motionless, his eyes blazing defiance; then he suddenly collapsed, and, with a half-whine, half-roar, slowly rolled over on his side, his great head sank to earth, his limbs stretched themselves stiffly out, and with a violent shudder he yielded up his life. Grosvenor chose this moment to inject a fresh cartridge into the chamber of his rifle. But something went wrong with the weapon, and while he was still fidgeting with it, forgetful of the fact that Jantje was standing behind him with a second rifle, fully charged, in his hand, the lioness, with a mighty, snarling roar that sent the dogs scuttling in all directions, crouched with the evident intention of springing upon the slayer of her lord. For a moment Dick, who was interestedly watching the scene, took no action, for, according to the arrangement come to between them, the lioness belonged of right to Grosvenor. Then, realising that his friend was in peril, he shouted excitedly: "Shoot, Phil, shoot, or the brute will be upon you!" at the same time lifting his own weapon to his shoulder.