A LION'S CHARGE They turned in very early after banking up leaves over the fires under the biltong strips, to give them a good smoking during the night, but in the small hours, when the night is at its quietest, the moonlight, shining on Venning's face, woke him.

The fires were glowing bright, altogether too bright for safety, and he rose to cover the glare with some green leaves.

He looked at his sleeping companions, for all, tired out by disturbed nights, slept on, except the jackal, which had one eye open.
Venning sat awhile looking down upon the dim uncertain shadows that came and went, as a fleecy mist-like cloud passed overhead.

Beyond the fitful murmur of the wind there was no sound but the hooting of a great homed owl somewhere from the woods above.

Drawing his blanket round him, and picking up his gun, he walked to a point on the right overlooking the bed of the little river, and there he sat down with his back to a rock and his gun over his knees.