The Mystery of the Nervous Lion

“I’m Jupiter Jones. These are my partners, Pete Crenshaw and Bob Andrews.”
“Nice to meet you, boys.” He took the card and studied it. “What are the question marks for?”
“The question marks stand for things unknown,” Jupiter explained. “For questions unanswered, riddles, enigmas. It’s our business to answer those questions, unravel the riddles, and find solutions for the enigmas. That’s why we’re here. Mr. Hitchcock told us about the trouble you’re having with your nervous lion.”
“Oh, he did?”
“Actually, he merely mentioned your lion was nervous. I imagine he expected you to fill in the details.”
The stocky man nodded, and slipped the card into his shirt pocket. He frowned and squinted into the distance. There was a trumpeting sound, almost immediately followed by an answering roar.
“Well,” he said smiling. “If you’re feeling up to it, we can go out and have a look at him.”
“That’s what we’re here for,” said Jupe.
“Fine. Let’s get moving then.”
Turning abruptly, he skirted the bunkhouse and followed a faint trail through the jungle. The boys fell into step behind him.
“Perhaps you can fill us in on the way, Mr. Hall,” Jupe said, dodging a thick vine.
The long machete flashed in the air. The vine parted as if it were paper. “What d’ya want to know?” the man asked, resuming his rapid pace.
Jupe struggled to stay close behind. “Well, for example, all we know is that your lion is nervous. That’s — well — rather unusual for a lion, isn’t it?”
The man nodded, walking fast and slashing at the undergrowth looming in their path. “Not usual, at all. Know anything about lions?”
Jupiter gulped. “No, sir. That’s why we’d like to know. It’s curious, isn’t it? I mean, this is a new development, isn’t it?”
“Yep,” the man said shortly. He held up his hand for silence. There were faint chattering sounds. Then came a booming roar. The man smiled. “Just up ahead,” he said. “That’s him out there.” He cocked his head at Jupiter. “I’ll leave it to you. Does he sound nervous?”
“I–I don’t know. It sounds like — well, a normal lion roar.” Jupe was determined to let Mr. Hall know he wasn’t the least bit nervous himself.
“That’s right,” the man said. He stopped for a moment, swishing his machete at the tall grass surrounding them. “Y’see, the lion is not a nervous animal, at all.”
“But —” Jupe started, perplexed.
The man nodded. “Unless,” he said, “unless somebody or something is making him that way. How does that strike you?”
The boys, together now, nodded.
“Sure, but what?” Bob asked.
The man shifted his position suddenly. “Don’t move,” he whispered. “Something out there.”
Before they realised it, he had disappeared into the tall grass. They heard his footsteps, the swish of grass, and then suddenly nothing at all.
Somewhere overhead a bird screeched and they jumped nervously.
“Relax, fellows,” Pete said. “That was only a bird.”
“Only a bird!” Bob repeated. “Some bird! It sounded like a vulture.”
The boys waited for several minutes. Jupe glanced at his watch. “I’ve a funny feeling that vulture is trying to tell us something,” he said.
“Oh, come on, Jupe,” Bob protested. “Tell us what?”
Jupe’s face was pale. He licked his lips. “I have the feeling that Mr. Hall isn’t coming back. I think he’s arranged some kind of test for us — to see how we react to the danger of the jungle.”
“But why, Jupe?” asked Pete. “What would his reason be? We’re here to help him, aren’t we? He knows that.”
Jupe listened for a moment before answering. Strange calls came from high in the trees. Then once again they heard a deep, menacing roar.
Jupiter inclined his head in the direction of the last frightening sound. “I don’t know what Mr. Hall’s reason can be. But I know that lion out there sounds a lot closer than before. He seems to be coming this way. I think that’s what the vulture is telling us — that we’re the prey! They usually circle a dead or soon-to-be-dead animal. In this case, us!”
Pete and Bob stared at Jupe. They knew he wasn’t apt to joke in serious circumstances. Instinctively the three boys moved closer together.
They listened tensely.
They heard the swish of grass. Then footfalls, soft and stealthy.
Holding their breath, they edged closer to a large tree.
Then, almost directly behind them, they heard a blood-chilling sound — the roar of the lion!
 
5
Dangerous Game
“Quick!” Jupe whispered urgently. “Up this tree! It’s our only chance!”
In an instant the three had scrambled up a smoothboled gum tree. They huddled breathlessly in its fork barely ten feet from the ground, looking intently at the waist-high grass beyond.
Pete pointed towards a thick cluster of growth. “I–I just saw some grass bend there. You hear it? Something is moving —”
He blinked at a soft call, a whistle from the high grass. Then to the amazement of all three, a young boy stepped out of the brush, peering cautiously about.
“Hey!” Bob called. “Up here!”
The boy whirled. In the same motion, he swung a rifle upward. “Who are you?” he demanded.
“F-friends,” Bob gasped weakly. “Put down that gun.”
“We’ve been invited here,” Pete added. “We’re The Three Investigators.”
“We’re waiting for Mr. Hall to come back,” Jupe put in. “He left us waiting while he went out there to investigate something.”
The boy swung the rifle down. “Come down out of there,” he said.
Cautiously the three slid down the trunk. Jupe pointed into the grass. “We heard a lion out there a little while ago. We thought we’d be safer up in the tree.”
The boy smiled. He appeared to be about their age. “That was George,” he said.
Pete gulped. “George? The lion’s name is George?”
The boy nodded. “You don’t have to be afraid of George. He’s friendly.”
A deep roar came from the high grass. It sounded terrifyingly close.
The Three Investigators stiffened.
“Y-you call that roar friendly?” Pete asked.
“I suppose you’ve got to get used to it first. But that’s George — and he wouldn’t harm anybody.”
A twig snapped sharply. Bob paled. “What makes you so sure?”
“I work here,” he boy answered, smiling. “I see George every day. By the way, my name’s Mike Hall.”
“We’re glad to meet you, Mike,” said Jupe. He introduced himself and his companions. Then, “I’m not sure we appreciate your father’s sense of humour.”
Mike Hall looked surprised.
“Bringing us out here and then deserting us with a lion close by,” Pete burst in heatedly. “That’s no joke.”
“That’s probably why he’s in trouble here,” Bob added. “You can lose a lot of people trying to help you if you play games like that.”
The youth looked at the three angry investigators, puzzled. “I don’t understand. First, I’m Jim Hall’s nephew, not his son. Second, Jim wouldn’t have left you here with the lion. We’ve all been looking for him — George got out somehow, and we forgot you were coming, in the excitement. I’ve heard George roaring and been trying to catch up with him.”
Jupe listened to this explanation calmly. “I’m sorry, Mike. We’re telling the truth. Mr. Hall led us out here and then abandoned us. The lion roared out there, and he told us to wait. He disappeared into the grass — and — well, we’ve had a long wait — and a worried one!”
Mike shook his head stubbornly. “There must be some mistake. That couldn’t have been Jim. I’ve been with him all day and I just left him. You must have met somebody else. What did he look like?”
Bob described the stocky man with the Aussie campaign hat. “We called him Mr. Hall and he didn’t deny it,” he added.
“He carried a long machete,” Pete said, “and knew how to use it. He also knew his way around. He cut his way right to this spot to show us the lion.”