As the lion sprang, the heart of Huzim was like to stop its beat in fear. With a cry of anguish from above he plunged down the steep declivity, heedless of stones and thorns that tore his flesh as he rended a pathway through the interwoven shrubberies. He saw his mistress crouch, and brace the butt of her hunting spear behind her on the earth. He saw a tawny body hurtling through the air, to land on the waiting spear point which, by reason of the brute's own weight, sank deep into his neck; then the monster shot in a curve above the woman's head and, snarling, fell among the rocks. With all her strength the huntress clung to her weapon's haft, striving to hold her prey upon his back, while the cautious Habal, with that over-plus of noise which sometimes covers a lack of pluck, snapped viciously at the brush of the lion's tail.
Panting, breathless with his toil, the Indian raced toward the spot, notching an arrow as he came, yet Semiramis would have none of him.
"Hold, Huzim!" she cried. "On thy life dare loose a shaft! The kill is mine!"
So Huzim stayed his hand, though it irked him sore to watch while his mistress gripped her spear and was tossed like a rag upon the wind; but at length the lion ceased to struggle, sighing, as he stretched his splendid limbs in death.
Then Huzim--that trail-tried hunter, of many a fight more terrible than this--did a thing which was full of strangeness in a man. Trembling, he cast himself upon the earth, to clasp the feet of Semiramis, to kiss them, and to weep as a child might weep; but his mistress laughed, and patted Huzim's head, even as it was her wont to fondle Habal for a deed of love.
Homeward they journeyed across the hills, Semiramis proud of the pelt which Huzim bore, while Habal pranced before them, with the air of one who had done this deed alone, and cared not a pinch of wind if the whole world knew and marveled because of a most uncommon dog.
So the hunts went on, for Menon now was much abroad in quelling troubles which arose on every hand; though often in his leisure hours he joined the sport, and this Semiramis loved best of all.
Then the Kurds arose in fierce revolt, and the Governor needs leave his wife for a longer space, though many a bitter tear she shed, in that he would not suffer her to go. She was mad for a taste of war, mad as when with kisses she had urged him on the temple steps at Ascalon; yet Menon closed his ears alike to prayer and subtle argument. And thus it came to pass that she dried her eyes and watched him depart alone.