“Shoot with the bow,” I cried, “shoot swiftly ere he spring!”

But courage had left the breast of the boaster, his jaw dropped down and his fingers unloosed their hold so that the bow fell from them; then, with a loud cry he turned and fled behind me, leaving the lion in my path.  But while I stood waiting my doom, for though I was sore afraid I would not fly, the lion crouched himself, and turning not aside, with one great bound swept over me, touching me not.  He lit, and again he bounded full upon the boaster’s back, striking him such a blow with his great paw that his head was crushed as an egg thrown against a stone.  He fell down dead, and the lion stood and roared over him.  Then I was mad with horror, and, scarce knowing what I did, I grasped my spear and with a shout I charged.  As I charged the lion lifted himself up above me.  He smote at me with his paw; but with all my strength I drove the broad spear into his throat, and, shrinking from the agony of the steel, his blow fell short and did no more than rip my skin.  Back he fell, the great spear far in his throat; then rising, he roared in pain and leapt twice the height of a man straight into the air, smiting at the spear with his forepaws.  Twice he leapt thus, horrible to see, and twice he fell upon his back.  Then his strength spent itself with his rushing blood, and, groaning like a bull, he died; while I, being but a lad, stood and trembled with fear now that all cause of fear had passed.

But as I stood and gazed at the body of him who had taunted me, and at the carcass of the lion, a woman came running towards me, even the same old wife, Atoua, who, though I knew it not as yet, had offered up her flesh and blood that I might be saved alive.  For she had been gathering simples, in which she had great skill, by the water’s edge, not knowing that there was a lion near (and, indeed, the lions, for the most part, are not found in the tilled land, but rather in the desert and the Libyan mountains), and had seen from a distance that which I have set down.  Now, when she was come, she knew me for Harmachis, and, bending herself, she made obeisance to me, and saluted me, calling me Royal, and worthy of all honour, and beloved, and chosen of the Holy Three, ay, and by the name of the Pharaoh! the Deliverer!

But I, thinking that terror had made her sick of mind, asked her of what she would speak.

“Is it a great thing,” I asked, “that I should slay a lion?  Is it a matter worthy of such talk as thine?  There live, and have lived, men who have slain many lions.  Did not the Divine Amen-hetep the Osirian slay with his own hand more than a hundred lions?  Is it not written on the scarabaeus that hangs within my father’s chamber, that he slew lions aforetime?  And have not others done likewise?  Why then, speakest thou thus, O foolish woman?”

All of which I said, because, having now slain the lion, I was minded, after the manner of youth, to hold it as a thing of no account.  But she did not cease to make obeisance, and to call me by names that are too high to be written.