The rucrus, as Givens called it afterward, was brief and somewhat confused. When he arrived on the line of attack he saw a dim streak in the air, and heard a couple of faint cracks. Then a hundred pounds of Mexican lion plumped down upon his head and flattened him, with a heavy jar, to the ground. He remembered calling out: Let up, now no fair gouging! and then he crawled from under the lion like a worm, with his mouth full of grass and dirt, and a big lump on the back of his head where it had struck the root of a water-elm. The lion lay motionless. Givens, feeling aggrieved, and suspicious of fouls, shook his fist at the lion, and shouted: Ill rastle you again for twenty and then he got back to himself.
Josefa was standing in her tracks, quietly reloading her silver-mounted 38. It had not been a difficult shot. The lions head made an easier mark than a tomato-can swinging at the end of a string. There was a provoking, teasing, maddening smile upon her mouth and in her dark eyes. The would-be-rescuing knight felt the fire of his fiasco burn down to his soul. Here had been his chance, the chance that he had dreamed of; and Momus, and not Cupid, had presided over it. The satyrs in the wood were, no doubt, holding their sides in hilarious, silent laughter. There had been something like vaudeville say Signor Givens and his funny knockabout act with the stuffed lion.
Is that you, Mr Givens? said Josefa, in her deliberate, saccharine contralto. You nearly spoiled my shot when you yelled. Did you hurt your head when you fell?
Oh, no, said Givens, quietly; that didnt hurt. He stooped ignominiously and dragged his best Stetson hat from under the beast. It was crushed and wrinkled to a fine comedy effect. Then he knelt down and softly stroked the fierce, open-jawed head of the dead lion.
Poor old Bill! he exclaimed, mournfully.
Whats that? asked Josefa, sharply.
Of course you didnt know, Miss Josefa, said Givens, with an air of one allowing magnanimity to triumph over grief. Nobody can blame you. I tried to save him, but I couldnt let you know in time.
Save who?
Why, Bill. Ive been looking for him all day. You see, hes been our camp pet for two years. Poor old fellow, he wouldnt have hurt a cottontail rabbit. Itll break the boys all up when they hear about it. But you couldnt tell, of course, that Bill was just trying to play with you.
Josefas black eyes burned steadily upon him. Ripley Givens met the test successfully. He stood rumpling the yellow-brown curls on his head pensively. In his eyes was regret, not unmingled with a gentle reproach. His smooth features were set to a pattern of indisputable sorrow. Josefa wavered.
What was your pet doing here? she asked, making a last stand. Theres no camp near the White Horse Crossing.
The old rascal ran away from camp yesterday, answered Givens, readily. Its a wonder the coyotes didnt scare him to death. You see, Jim Webster, our horse wrangler, brought a little terrier pup into camp last week. The pup made life miserable for Bill he used to chase him around and chew his hind legs for hours at a time. Every night when bedtime came Bill would sneak under one of the boys blankets and sleep to keep the pup from finding him. I reckon he must have been worried pretty desperate or he wouldnt have run away. He was always afraid to get out of sight of camp.
Josefa looked at the body of the fierce animal. Givens gently patted one of the formidable paws that could have killed a yearling calf with one blow. Slowly a red flush widened upon the dark olive face of the girl. Was it the signal of shame of the true sportsman who has brought down ignoble quarry? Her eyes grew softer, and the lowered lids drove away all their bright mockery.
Im very sorry, she said, humbly; but he looked so big, and jumped so high that
Poor old Bill was hungry, interrupted Givens, in quick defence of the deceased. We always made him jump for his supper in camp. He would lie down and roll over for a piece of meat. When he saw you he thought he was going to get something to eat from you.
Suddenly Josefas eyes opened wide.
I might have shot you! she exclaimed. You ran right in between. You risked your life to save your pet! That was fine, Mr Givens. I like a man who is kind to animals.
Yes; there was even admiration in her gaze now. After all, there was a hero rising out of the ruins of the anti-climax. The look on Givenss face would have secured him a high position in the S.P.C.A.[21]
I always loved em, said he; horses, dogs, Mexican lions, cows, alligators
I hate alligators, instantly demurred Josefa; crawly, muddy things!
Did I say alligators? said Givens. I meant antelopes, of course.
Josefas conscience drove her to make further amends. She held out her hand penitently. There was a bright, unshed drop in each of her eyes.
Please forgive me, Mr Givens, wont you? Im only a girl, you know, and I was frightened at first. Im very, very sorry I shot Bill. You dont know how ashamed I feel. I wouldnt have done it for anything.