He wished to carry off the third cub as a memento of his first expedition. He re-entered the bushes and searched about. Before long the two youngsters came face to face. The cub, warned by the fate of his brothers, stood on the defensive, and, as soon as Murad came within reach, plunged his talons into his neck. Murad smiled. He would not have cared to bag his game without some trouble, so taking his captive by the throat he made him loose his hold. The lion gasped, choked, and at last, half-strangled, fell on his side, whereon the son of Marsillus took him by the scruff of the neck and carried him off. [Illustration: 052] The wounded cub continued its moanings, which were soon answered by a fierce and formidable cry. The mother was coming to the rescue of her young! Murad saw that flight was impossible. The lioness came to a halt on a neighbouring height, relieved in profile against the pale sky. She searched with anxious and terrified eyes the glade whence the cries proceeded. Perceiving the wounded cub she made but one bound to it, rolled it over and over, licking its wounds, trampling and tearing the ground with her claws. At intervals she raised her head, and gave utterance to a menacing roar. Her fierce caresses hastened the cub’s death. When she saw he no longer stirred she devoted herself to searching for some one on whom to avenge the great calamity which had overtaken her. Then she heard the complainings of the other cub which was being carried off, and she stood astonished at the audacity of the robber. You would have declared she knew Murad could not fly. Without hurrying herself at all, she advanced towards him in narrowing circles, of which he was the centre, lashing her sides with her tail, lowering her head, laying back her ears, and opening her terrific jaws. Murad availed himself of the delay to drag off his clothes, and roll them round his left arm; and then, scimitar in hand, awaited her attack, determined to make a stout defence, but feeling certain he had but few minutes to live. He continued to retreat, fixing his eyes on those of his terrible adversary, until he reached a rock, against which he placed his back. On arriving within a few paces of the lad, the lioness sprang upon him. Murad sank on one knee, and thrust nearly the whole of his left arm down the monster’s throat. The pain he suffered was horrible, and drew from him so savage a shout that even the lioness was terrified. Then, not knowing what he was doing, mad with rage and pain, and guided less by presence of mind than instinct, he drove his steel into the creature’s belly, and ripped it entirely open. Then, bathed in blood, he sank beneath the corpse of his victim, and lost consciousness. [Illustration: 053] And now, my young friends, we will no longer stop out of doors at this time of night, but re-enter the palace, and see what is going on there.