Then we all took a rest, panting and weary.
"What's it mean ?" I ejaculated, appealing to Jones.
"Jealous, that's all.

Jealous over the lion." We all remained seated, men and hounds, a sweaty, dirty, bloody, ragged group.

I discovered I was sorry for Kitty.

I forgot all the carcasses of deer and horses, the brutality of this species of cat; and even forgot the grim, snarling yellow devil that had leaped at me.

Kitty was beautiful and helpless.