A TERRIBLE FIGHT.
Just at the instant when Philip Garland believed his career as a trader
in wild animals was to be ended by death the panther turned his head
slightly and began to paw up the leaves, his tail moving angrily from
side to side, much as if an adversary was approaching from the opposite
direction. At the same moment was heard a fierce growling and snarling
from the left, a short distance away, followed immediately by the sound
of claws raking the bark as this new-comer evidently sprang into a tree.
There was now an opportunity for the shipwrecked youth to make his
escape; but the fascination of the scene held him spell-bound.
The panther, who had been standing guard over the deer, crouched for an
instant with every muscle quivering, and then leaped high in the air as
a huge body shot from out the foliage with the force and velocity of a
cannon-ball, the two animals coming together with a shock several feet
from the ground.
The combatants rolled over and over, snarling like cats, full twenty
paces from where the revolver hung suspended, and Philip moved cautiously
forward without being observed by either of the participants in the
deadly strife.
A moment later he had secured the weapon, and made his way with
considerable difficulty up the side of the cliff until he arrived at a
stout but not tall tree, within view of the animals. To ascend the trunk
of this was but the work of a moment, and he seated himself among the
branches to await the result of the sanguinary battle.
Over and over the two panthers rolled, snarling and tearing at each
other’s throats as they uttered from time to time such roars as seemingly
caused the very air to tremble.
During fully fifteen minutes these huge cats tore and slashed, each
gripping his adversary’s neck, and at the expiration of that time one
arose to his feet with a mighty roar. The other lay dead, his glossy coat
cut into ribbons, and his life-blood staining the foliage for a dozen
feet on either side.
Whether the victor was the one who had first confronted him Philip could
not decide; but he came directly toward the carcass, after licking his
wounds; and now the question arose as to whether the hungry man should
see his dinner devoured when, possibly, he had the means of preventing it.
Recharging the two chambers of the weapon which had been emptied into the
body of the deer, Philip took careful aim between the panther’s eyes and
fired.
The ball simply grazed the animal’s skull, half stunning him for an
instant, and causing him to whirl around in such a manner that there was
no chance of firing a second shot with any degree of accuracy.
With an angry scream the panther leaped to his feet once more,
immediately searching for this new antagonist, whom he discovered with
but little difficulty after a few seconds. The blood blinded his eyes;
but he made a desperate leap with such effect that one of his huge paws
brushed Philip’s foot. The foliage was not sufficiently thick to check
the impetus of his jump, and he fell on the opposite side with a force
that rolled him over half a dozen times.
Philip could not afford to waste ammunition, therefore he decided to fire
only when there was a probability of hitting the mark fairly; and from
his reasonably safe position he watched the antics of the enraged animal.
Three different times did the panther run back from the tree and then
spring toward his enemy, but never leaping higher than at the first
attempt. With each failure he lost more and more of his temper. He rolled
on the ground and roared in impotent rage, made frantic rushes at the
tree, and twice climbed nearly to where Philip sat.
Four times did the hunter fire point-blank at the animal; but little
execution was done, save to further enrage the beast, because of the
foliage which impeded the view.
[Illustration: As Philip emerged from the ravine he discovered a panther
standing over the game.—(See page 67.)]
It was not until after fully an hour had passed that the panther settled
down on his haunches and gazed steadily at the tree, as if trying to
decide what his next move should be.
This was the opportunity for which Philip had waited, and with a
well-directed shot he ended the contest, tumbling the huge cat over,
where, after a few spasmodic twitches of the muscles, he lay motionless
and dead.
When Philip became convinced there was no longer any life in the beast he
descended from the tree, hastily cut out a quarter of the deer, and made
his way with all possible speed down the ravine, for the neighborhood
was one in which he did not care to linger. Under other circumstances
he might have had sufficient curiosity to examine the bodies of the
animals; but just now it was dinner, not natural history, in which he was
interested, and his one thought was to roast as quickly as possible the
meat which had so nearly cost him his life.
By following up the ravine toward the east he came upon a small stream
which had its source among a series of hills, of which the one he
ascended was the westernmost, and here he halted.
After gathering a quantity of dry twigs and leaves he soon started a
blaze by discharging his revolver directly into the inflammable material,
and half an hour later his hunger was satisfied with venison steaks,
several of which were eaten before the fire had made any very great
change in their appearance.
The fatigue, excitement and mental distress of the past three days had
wearied him to the verge of exhaustion, and now that the desire for food
was appeased he hastened to enjoy the repose so sadly needed.
Among some tamarind-trees which grew near the edge of the stream he
laid down, after hanging the remnant of meat among the branches for
safe-keeping, and hardly was his head upon the mossy pillow ere his eyes
closed in the most profound slumber.
How long that sleep lasted he knew not, save from the fact that when he
closed his eyes the sun was in the zenith, and on opening them again
it was precisely at the same point; therefore it seemed as if what was
intended for a short nap must have continued exactly twenty-four hours.
The meat hung where he left it; but the tropical sun had already begun to
taint it. To a man in Philip’s position such an incident is but trifling,
and despite its condition he broiled for himself another meal, saying, as
he did so:
“I sha’n’t miss the seasoning while it is so rank, therefore there is no
great loss without some small gain.”
After the repast was ended he remained seated in the shelter of the trees
trying to form some plan of relief, when he became aware of a certain
rustling near-by which could not have been produced by the gentle breeze
among the foliage.
Any unusual sound, however slight, in such a place demanded immediate
attention, because of the variety of enemies he had already met, and with
his revolver ready for instant use he advanced cautiously toward the
spot from whence the noise appeared to proceed.
Slowly, on tiptoe and with bated breath, he continued his way to a
thicket of mimosas, and raising the thorny branches with the utmost
caution peered forward at that which caused him to stand as if
spell-bound with horror.
Before him, suspended to the branches of a tree, was a huge skeleton, its
bones, which were bleached white as ivory, standing out in vivid contrast
against the dark green leaves.
It was some moments before Philip could control his emotions sufficiently
to approach this horrible object; but when he did so, alarm gave way to
surprise. He seized the foot of the rustling, ominous-looking fruit borne
by the mimosa, but it proved to be a hand. In an instant he understood
that the skeleton was that of an ape—a gigantic mandrill, enemy of the
baboon, with whom it shares the empire of ferocity.
Judging from the size of the bones, Philip knew that the ape to which it
formerly belonged must have surpassed in size and strength any of the
species he had ever seen; but how it chanced to be suspended in such a
manner was something concerning which he could form no plausible idea.
That the animal had been skinned before being strung up like a malefactor
was apparent from the fact that no fragment of hide was to be found at
the bottom of the tree or clinging to the bones.
Improbable as was the thought, Philip fancied he looked upon the
evidences of an execution. It surely appeared as if the mandrill had been
hanged, and then, to make the punishment more degrading, skinned after
death.
As may be supposed, Philip did not linger long in this vicinity. His
own condition afforded plenty of food for sorrow, and there was no
necessity to torture his mind with a sinister object such as called forth
speculations which could not be otherwise than painful.
The suspended skeleton had the effect, however, of lessening his troubles
to a certain extent, for as he made his way toward the east once more
there was in his mind plenty of food for thought other than the forlorn
condition in which he had so suddenly been plunged.
What spot on this vast globe had he found where apes usurped the place
of man? And was there a human being dwelling on the island? How did it
happen that the different species of monkeys he had seen were so familiar
with man?
This last question caused him to have more faith that he would soon find
others of his kind, and he pressed forward with renewed hope and vigor.