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Chapter 9
Icouldseeherallthetime,asIthought,outofacornerofmyeye,tetheredtoatreetwentyyardsaway.AfteracoupleofhoursIbegantothinkoffood.Icollectedmyfishinatarpaulinbag,andmoveddownthestreamtowardsthemare,trollingmyline.WhenIgotuptoherIflungthetarpaulinonherback—”
Hepausedandlookedround.
“Itwasthesmellthatgavemewarning.Iturnedmyheadandfoundmyselflookingatalionthreefeetoff....Anoldman-eater,thatwastheterrorofthevillage....Whatwasleftofthemare,amassofbloodandbonesandhide,wasbehindhim.”
“Whathappened?”Iasked.IwasenoughofahuntertoknowatrueyarnwhenIheardit.
“Istuffedmyfishing-rodintohisjaws,andIhadapistol.Alsomyservantscamepresentlywithrifles.Buthelefthismarkonme.”Heheldupahandwhichlackedthreefingers.
“Consider,”hesaid.“Themarehadbeendeadmorethananhour,andthebrutehadbeenpatientlywatchingmeeversince.Ineversawthekill,forIwasaccustomedtothemare’sfretting,andInevermarkedherabsence,formyconsciousnessofherwasonlyofsomethingtawny,andthelionfilledthatpart.IfIcouldblunderthus,gentlemen,inalandwheremen’ssensesarekeen,whyshouldwebusypreoccupiedurbanfolknoterralso?”
SirWalternodded.Noonewasreadytogainsayhim.
“ButIdon’tsee,”wentonWinstanley.“Theirobjectwastogetthesedispositionswithoutourknowingit.
