I took a shot at the crayfish with the tiger ammunition and then loaded for lions.
We went on until the marsh became a thicket of cattails, bulrushes, willow bushes, and blue flags; then I found a path where the lions left the jungle, hid Mr.Pryor and told him he must be very still or they wouldn't come.

At last I heard one.

I touched Mr.Pryor's sleeve to warn him to keep his eyes on the trail.

Pretty soon the lion came in sight.

Really it was only a little gray rabbit hopping along, but when it was opposite us, I pinged it in the side, it jumped up and turned a somersault with surprise, and squealed a funny little squeal,--well, I wondered if Mr.Pryor's people didn't hear him, and think he had gone crazy as Paddy Ryan.