A
second attempt was more successful, and the hunter was shaken from his
seat; the horse, however, again escaped.
The poor fellow gave himself up for lost, but he was a brave man, and he
determined not to die without every attempt to save his life should
fail. Escape he saw was hopeless; so planting himself with the energy of
despair, he put his rifle hastily to his shoulder, and just as the lion
was stooping for his spring, he fired. He was a little too late; the
beast had moved, and the ball did not prove so effective as he hoped. It
entered the side of the wild beast, though it did him no mortal harm,
and he leaped at his victim. The shot had, nevertheless, delayed his
bound for an instant, and the hunter avoided its effect by a rapid jump,
and with the butt-end of his gun struck at the lion with all his power,
as he turned upon him. The dreadful creature seized it with his teeth,
but with such force, that instead of twisting it out of the hunter's
hand, he broke it short off by the barrel. The hunter immediately
attacked him again, but his weapon was too short, and the lion fixed his
claws in his breast, tearing off all his flesh, and endeavored to gripe
his shoulder with his mouth, but the gun-barrel was of excellent
service. Driving it into the mouth of the beast with all his strength,
he seized one of the creature's jaws with his left hand, and, what with
the strength and energy given by the dreadful circumstances, and the
purchase obtained by the gun-barrel, he succeeded in splitting the
animal's mouth.
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