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Where were they? And as I asked the question a lone, gaunt lion strode from the

tangled jungle upon the far side of the clearing. Majestically and noiselessly upon

his padded feet the king of beasts moved slowly toward the gates of London and

toward me.

Was I afraid? I fear that I was almost afraid. I know that I thought that fear was

coming to me, and so I straightened up and squared my shoulders and looked the

lion straight in the eyes--and waited.

It is not a nice way to die--alone, with one's hands fast bound, beneath the fangs

and talons of a beast of prey. No, it is not a nice way to die, not a pretty way.

The lion was halfway across the clearing when I heard a slight sound behind me.

The great cat stopped in his tracks. He lashed his tail against his sides now,

instead of simply twitching its tip, and his low moan became a thunderous roar.

As I craned my neck to catch a glimpse of the thing that had aroused the fury of

the beast before me, it sprang through the arched gateway and was at my side--

with parted lips and heaving bosom and disheveled hair--a bronzed and lovely

vision to eyes that had never harbored hope of rescue.

It was Victory, and in her arms she clutched my rifle and revolver. A long knife

was in the doeskin belt that supported the doeskin skirt tightly about her lithe

limbs. She dropped my weapons at my feet, and, snatching the knife from its

resting place, severed the bonds that held me. I was free, and the lion was

preparing to charge.

Run!" I cried to the girl, as I bent and seized my rifle. But she only stood there at

my side, her bared blade ready in her hand.

The lion was bounding toward us now in prodigious leaps. I raised the rifle and

fired. It was a lucky shot, for I had no time to aim carefully, and when the beast

crumpled and rolled, lifeless, to the ground, I went upon my knees and gave

thanks to the God of my ancestors.

And, still upon my knees, I turned, and taking the girl's hand in mine, I kissed it.

She smiled at that, and laid her other hand upon my head.

You have strange customs in your country," she said.

I could not but smile at that when I thought how strange it would seem to my

countrymen could they but see me kneeling there on the site of London, kissing

the hand of England's queen.

The Lost Continent