Yet no cattle--no buffaloes ever roared that way.
"Now you know why I ordered you all inside," grinned the ex-missionary owner of the place.

I divined on the instant that this was his habit, to stand by the door before supper and say just those words to the last arrivals.

I had a vision of him standing by his mission door aforetime, repeating one jest, or more likely one stale euphuism night after night.
"Lions ?" I asked, hating to take the bait, yet curious beyond power to resist.
"Certainly they're lions! Did you think you were dreaming?
Are you glad you came in when I called you?
Would you rather go out again now?
Make a noise like a herd of cattle, don't they! That's because they're bold.

They don't care who hears them! The day is ours.

It used to be theirs, but the white man has come and broken up their empire.