My rifle was at my hip at the ready. He was so close that I did not
need to raise it to my shoulder, having but to pull the trigger to send
him into Kingdom Come whenever I chose; but yet I hesitated. It was
difficult to bring myself to take a human life. I could feel no enmity
toward this savage barbarian who acted almost as wholly upon instinct
as might a wild beast, and to the last moment I was determined to seek
some way to avoid what now seemed inevitable. Ajor stood at my
shoulder, her knife ready in her hand and a sneer on her lips at his
suggestion that he would take her with him.
Just as I thought I should have to fire, a chorus of screams broke from
the women beneath us. I saw the man halt and glance downward, and
following his example my eyes took in the panic and its cause. The
women had, evidently, been quitting the pool and slowly returning
toward the caves, when they were confronted by a monstrous cave-lion
which stood directly between them and their cliffs in the center of the
narrow path that led down to the pool among the tumbled rocks.
Screaming, the women were rushing madly back to the pool.
"It will do them no good," remarked the man, a trace of excitement in
his voice. "It will do them no good, for the lion will wait until they
come out and take as many as he can carry away; and there is one
there," he added, a trace of sadness in his tone, "whom I hoped would
soon follow me to the Kro-lu. Together have we come up from the
beginning." He raised his spear above his head and poised it ready to
hurl downward at the lion. "She is nearest to him," he muttered. "He
will get her and she will never come to me among the Kro-lu, or ever
thereafter. It is useless! No warrior lives who could hurl a weapon
so great a distance."
But even as he spoke, I was leveling my rifle upon the great brute
below; and as he ceased speaking, I squeezed the trigger. My bullet
must have struck to a hair the point at which I had aimed, for it
smashed the brute's spine back of his shoulders and tore on through his
heart, dropping him dead in his tracks. For a moment the women were as
terrified by the report of the rifle as they had been by the menace of
the lion; but when they saw that the loud noise had evidently destroyed
their enemy, they came creeping cautiously back to examine the carcass.
The man, toward whom I had immediately turned after firing, lest he
should pursue his threatened attack, stood staring at me in amazement
and admiration.
"Why," he asked, "if you could do that, did you not kill me long
before?"
"I told you," I replied, "that I had no quarrel with you. I do not
care to kill men with whom I have no quarrel."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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