The nine guards set forward, marching carefully, and trying the bushes with their spears. Murad heard them approaching, but remained quite still in his hiding-place. At last they had to cross an open glade flooded with moonlight. They held a brief consultation as to the direction in which they should prosecute the search. The leader, picking out the darkest nook at the edge of the wood, pointed it out to his men. The unthinking and inexperienced always pitch on the darkest spot for a hiding-place, overlooking the fact that it is sure to be the first to be searched. At the moment when the officer was indicating to his men the direction they should take, Murad, who was crouching in the underwood, felt a warm breath upon his neck and ten sharp claws on his shoulders. If I said he was not frightened I should tell a falsehood, especially when, on turning his head, he saw two eyes--two glowing red stars--gazing on him in the gloom. But fear did not abide long in the breast of Murad. He saw, however, close by him another group of stars, an alarming constellation; in short, the young prince had hidden himself in a den with three young lions. [Illustration: 050] Unseen danger could make him tremble, but when he knew what he had to deal with he recovered himself, and began to reflect on what he had to do. “Here I am, between three lions and nine Nubians, armed to the teeth; which should I dread most? The latter, of course, for I frightened them, and I killed one of them. They have two things to avenge on me. If I kill one of the lions he will roar, and at his voice these birds of night will run away.” [Illustration: 051] Murad then seized by the throat the brute which was still tearing at his flesh, and drove the yataghan into his breast. But he miscalculated for the cub paid the penalty of his life without uttering a single growl. Still the little army of invaders continued to advance, only instead of coming on steadily they did so at the double. The child sprang to his feet, seized the second of the lions, and flung him straight in the teeth of the advancing’ band when it was but a few steps from the copse. This new style of projectile had a most telling effect. The Nubians retraversed in ten seconds the ground it had taken them five-and-twenty minutes to get over in the first instance. The field was Murad’s. Of the three lion whelps one was dead, and a second one was struggling on the ground with a huge wound in the flank. He did not emulate the taciturnity of his brother, for he filled the air with piercing yells. The third was squatting under some thick boughs, uttering a low growling. And now Murad was seized with a third whim. It was not a bad one for a beginner.