Thirty-five yards into the grass the big lion lay flattened out along the ground. His cars were back and his only movement was a slight twitching of his long black-tufted tail. He had turned at bay as soon as he had reached this cover. His stomach and lung wounds were gradually robbing him of his strength and brought a thin foamy red to his mouth each time he breathed. His flanks were wet and hot and flies covered the openings the solid bullets had made in his tawny hide, and his yellow, hate-filled eyes, looked straight ahead. They blinked, with pain, and his claws dug into the soft baked earth. All of him, pain, sickness, hatred and all of his remaining strength, was tightening into an absolute concentration for a rush. He could hear the men talking and he waited, ready to charge as soon as they entered the tall grass. When he heard their voices, his tail stiffened, twitched up and down, and, as they advanced, he made a coughing grunt and charged.

Q. Underline the words which show the lion's courage and his wounded condition.