With apparent unconcern, the lion creepingly advanced toward the dog, and then, with a sudden movement, he was upon his feet, and in a second launched himself into the air!  But the dog that same instant bounded in an opposite direction, so that the lion fell in the corner, while the dog alighted where the lion had been.

For a moment the lion seemed very much surprised at the loss of his prey; with the dog, the instinct of self-preservation developed a coolness that even overcame his terror.  The body of the poor animal was all in a shiver, but his head was firm, his eyes were watchful.  Without losing sight of his enemy, he slowly retreated into the corner behind him.

Then the lion, scanning his victim from the corners of his eyes, walked sidewise a few steps, and, turning suddenly, tried again to pounce with one bound upon the dog; but the latter seemed to anticipate this movement also, and, in the same second, jumped in the opposite direction, as before, crossing the lion in the air.

At this the lion became furious, and lost the calmness that might have insured him victory, while the courage of the unfortunate dog won for him the sympathy of all the spectators.

As the lion, excited and terrible, was preparing a new plan of attack, a rope ending in a loop was lowered to the dog.  The brave little animal, whose imploring looks had been pitiful to look upon, saw the help sent to him, and, fastening his teeth and claws into the rope, was immediately drawn up.  The lion, perceiving this, made a prodigious leap, but the dog was happily beyond his reach.  The poor creature, drawn in safety to the terrace, at once took flight, and was soon lost to view.

At the moment when the lion threw himself on the ground of the pit, roaring with rage at the escape of his prey, the Sicilian entered, calm and firm, superb in his brilliant costume, and with his club in his hand.

At his appearance in the pit, a silence like death came over the crowd of spectators.  The Hercules walked rapidly toward a corner, and, leaning upon his club, awaited the onslaught of the lion, who, blinded by fury, had not yet perceived his entrance.

The waiting was of short duration, for the lion, in turning, espied him, and the fire that flashed from the eyes of the terrible beast told of savage joy in finding another victim.

Here, however, the animal showed for a moment a feeling of anxiety; slowly, as if conscious that he was in the presence of a powerful adversary, he retreated some steps, keeping his fiery eyes all the time on the man.  The Sicilian also kept his keen gaze on the lion, and, with his body slightly inclined forward, marked every alteration of position.  Between the two adversaries, it was easy to see that fear was on the side of the beast; but, in comparing the feeble means of the man—­a rude club—­with the powerful structure of the lion, whose boundings made the very ground beneath him tremble, it was hard for the spectators to believe that courage, and not strength, would win the victory.