Vedia did
not shriek, she was too scared to make any sound: she merely clutched me
closer.
Both lions roared in front of the coach; a tiger's rasping yarr answered
from behind it and almost instantly there were noises alongside the coach
indicating that a lion and tiger were at grips; growls, snarls, more
growls and more snarls, each choked off in the middle as it were, half
swallowed and left unfinished. For some reason the noise of the fight
immediately started a chorus of hyenas, emitting their strange cries, much
like human laughter, but the laughter of maniacs. Our situation and
environment was to the last degree uncanny.
The fight lasted no long time. We could not conjecture which combatant was
victorious, but they dashed off, one pursuing the other. The remaining
lion roared twice; long, choking, snarling torrents of thunderous noise;
then it also went away. Except for distant snarls, squalls and roars, we
were in a silent moonlit world, almost peaceful. I ventured to unfasten
the other front panel and slide it a little way open. The rays of the high
moon, poured in on our feet, we looked out on a magical prospect.
Vedia put a relishing warm arm round my neck.
"Call me Caia again," she whispered.
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