He stopped suddenly, for there was a crackling in the underbrush, and the next moment the jungle vibrated to the mighty roar of a lion.

“He’s coming!” hoarsely whispered Tom.

Both lads glanced through the trees toward the camera, and, in the light, they saw a magnificent, tawny beast standing on the edge of the spring.  Once more he roared, as if in defiance, and then, as if deciding that the light was not harmful, he stooped to lap up the water

Hardly had he done so than there was another roar, and a moment later a second lion leaped from the dense jungle into the clearing about the spring.  The two monarchs of the forest stood there in the glare of the light, and Tom excitedly pressed the button that started the shutter to working, and the film to moving back of the lens.

There was a slight clicking sound in the camera, and the lions turned startedly.  Then both growled again, and the next instant they sprang at each other, roaring mightily.

“A fight!” cried Tom.  “A lion fight, and right in front of my camera!  It couldn’t be better.  This is great!  This will be a film.”

“Quiet!” begged Ned.  “They’ll hear you, and come for us.  I don’t want to be chewed up!”

“No danger of them hearing me!” cried Tom. and he had to shout to be heard above the roaring of the two tawny beasts, as they bit and clawed each other, while the camera took picture after picture of them.

CHAPTER XIII — A SHOT IN TIME

“Tom, did you ever see anything like it in your life?”

“I never did, Ned!  It’s wonderful! fearful!  And to think that we are here watching it, and that thousands of people will see the same thing thrown on a screen.  Oh, look at the big one.  The small lion has him down!”

The two lads, much thrilled, crouched down behind a screen of bushes, watching the midnight fight between the lions.  On the airship, not far distant, there was no little alarm, for those left behind heard the terrific roars, and feared Tom and Ned might be in some danger.  But the lions were too much occupied with their battle, to pay any attention to anything else, and no other wild beasts were likely to come to the spring while the two “kings” were at each other.

It was a magnificent, but terrible battle.  The big cats bit and tore at each other, using their terrific claws and their powerful paws, one stroke of which is said to be sufficient to break a bullock’s back.  Sometimes they would roll out of the focus of the camera, and, at such times, Tom wished he was at the machine to swing the lens around, but he knew it would be dangerous to move.  Then the beasts would roll back into the rays of light again, and more pictures of them would be taken.

“I guess the small one is going to win!” said Tom, after the two lions had fought for ten minutes, and the bigger one had been down several times.