Setting his sights for two hundred yards, Charlie aimed behind the shoulder of the antelope, and fired. The shot went a little high, owing to the jump of the beast, but the boy gave a yell of satisfaction as the antelope went down, its back broken by the shot. As they rode up he mercifully killed it with a shot through the brain, and the two boys looked down on their first Thomson's gazelle, or "tommy." "Good shot, Charlie," declared the explorer. "Now one for you, Jack, and we'll have enough for this time." A mile or so farther on Jack got his chance at one of the larger Grant's, and fetched him down with a single shot at three hundred yards, which caused the two Indians to give a cry of delight at his skill. By the time Amir rejoined them the wagons, were "hull down" on the horizon. Guru and Akram Das slung the two gazelles over their saddles, and all six started across the veldt at a brisk canter. Suddenly Jack's horse, in the lead, stopped dead still, trembling. In vain the boy urged him on, wondering what was the matter. The horse only backed, his ears flat, and then Jack saw that those of the others were doing likewise. "What's the trouble, General?" exclaimed Charlie. Schoverling unslung his rifle. "Lion, boys. These are well-trained horses, evidently. See that patch of mimosa just ahead? We are down-wind from that, and they probably smelled a lion. Head around it, and they will be all right." They arrived opposite the little ridge, topped with a dense growth of long grass, thorn and trees, when an exclamation burst from the Sikh. Out from the thicket broke a long, tawny shape, barely a hundred yards away. It was a magnificent black-maned lion, who stood lashing his sides and watching them as they drew rein. "There's your chance for a lion," said Schoverling, as the Indians cast a glance at him. Charlie shrugged his shoulders, watching the animal with eager interest. "What's the use in killing him, General?" he replied. "We don't want his skin particularly, and he's no good for food. How about it, Jack?" The other's hand fell from his rifle-butt. "Of course, Chuck. He won't attack us, I suppose?" "You'd like the excuse, eh?" laughed the explorer. "No, he won't attack us. He's probably got his dinner in that thicket, and heard us coming. It might be of advantage to the sheep ranchers hereabouts to kill him, but certainly not to us." They rode on, leaving the tawny beast still gazing after them. The Indians were keenly disappointed over not shooting the lion, but neither boy had cared to do so. They had been too well trained to slaughter needlessly; Jack, in particular, had no small share of the Cree feeling that animals are but "little brothers," and more than once thereafter Charlie heard him mutter the Indian's apology for taking life, as he shot.