While they had stood in the dark, expecting every moment to be pounced upon, he had been gorging on the dead leopard.

They now looked at their foe of the night, and found why it was that it had left them uninjured.

There were three wounds on the body--the bullet-hole in the forehead, a fleshy wound on the hind leg, and a hit on the spine, which had disabled it just as it was in the act of springing down upon the roof.
"It's your bag," said Compton.

"To think that we stood shivering and shaking for two mortal hours, while all the time the beggar was helpless!" Venning did not echo the complaint; he was too much occupied examining his prize, and taking exact measurements with a tape, which he entered in his log' book, together with a description of the markings.
"It's a new species," he said, with the pride of an explorer who discovers a new mountain.

"I will call it a tree-lion--leo arboriensis Venningii--that is, if you don't wish it called after you." "Call it anything you like, old fellow; but I should say it was just an ordinary leopard." "You never saw a leopard with those markings." "And no one ever saw a climbing lion." "It has adapted itself to changed conditions.