The shot, however, was a poor one.
The bullet struck the tiger, wounding him slightly, but not enough to
disable him. Naturally it added to the fury of the beast, and really
increased the peril of the people within the humble home, against whom the
brute seemed to have formed a strong and curious antipathy.
He wheeled about, leaped the fence behind him, galloped a number of paces,
and then paused abruptly, with his head up, and stared at the building, as
if trying to learn the point whence the shot came, that he might punish
the offenders.
"Gracious!" exclaimed Jim Travers, "he's going to jump up here and eat us
up! Let's run."
"Where'll we run?" was the sensible question of Tom. "I'd load up again,
but the powder and bullets are down-stairs, and before I could do it he'd
be on us, if he means to jump into this window."
The halt of the tiger was only momentary. He trotted round to the rear of
the house, vanishing from sight for the moment.
A brilliant idea struck Jim Travers.
"I can do better than that, Tom," he called out, clattering down-stairs.
"Come with me, and I'll show you."
"Are you going to try to look him in the eye?" asked Tom, following after
him, and scarcely less excited than he. "It won't work."
But the other lad paid no attention to the inquiry, so flurried was he
over his new scheme for frightening off the dreaded beast.
The closing of the shutters on the lower floor, as we have explained, cast
it in deep shadow. The mother had been so thorough in her work, that all
the three rooms were thus obscured. Aunt Cynthia had lit a lamp, which sat
on the table, and served to light up the interior.
"What do you mean to do?" she asked of the boys, as they rushed into her
presence.
"I'm going to load the gun," replied Tom. "I don't know what Jim is
driving at."
The women were naturally alarmed at the persistency of the wild animal in
his demonstration against the dwelling. It did look as if he was bent on
revenging himself for the hurt that had been inflicted. Many of the wild
beasts of India, like the frightful cobra, often show great tenacity in
attacking those from whom they have received injury.
"If the tiger will go away, you had better leave him alone," said Aunt
Cynthia. "Your shot doesn't seem to have hurt him at all."
"Yes, it did," insisted Tom. "I hit him, for he jumped."
"But you only made him more angry; I am afraid we are not through with him
yet."
The rifle was of the old-fashioned, muzzle-loading kind, and Aunt Cynthia
gave what help she could to her nephew, as he began reloading it. From the
powder flask she poured a charge down the barrel, upon which Tom pressed
the conical bullet, wrapped about with a small bit of greased muslin. Then
he had only to place a percussion-cap on the tube, and he was ready for
business.
But before this stage of the proceedings was reached, something startling
happened.
Jim Travers paid no heed to what his young friend was doing. Stooping over
the burning wood in the fireplace, the flame of which was quite feeble,
because the day was mild, he began fanning it with his hat. He was thus
employed, and Tom was in the act of capping the rifle, when a crash
against the nearest shutter made the building tremble.
The startled inmates stared trembling in each other's faces.
"It's the tiger!" whispered Mrs. Gordon, uttering a truth that was
manifest to every one.
"He is determined to get at us," added Aunt Cynthia. "What shall we do?"
"I'll fetch him this time," was the confident response of Tom, "if I can
only get a fair aim."
"You had better let me have the gun," said his mother, who was in a
momentary panic.
"Let me try it once more."
"But there is no chance here; it will not do to open the shutter: he will
spring right in among us."
"Up-stairs is the best place," said Tom, hurrying up the steps again.
Meanwhile, Jim Travers, who had been so terrified, displayed more coolness
than any one in the house. Probably he felt so much confidence in his new
scheme, that he was warranted in this self-possession.
Like the rest, he was startled by the crash against the shutter. He rose
to his feet, stared at the window, and, seeing that the beast had not
broken through, stooped and resumed fanning the blaze with more vigor than
ever. At this juncture Tom called from above,--
"Where is he? I can't see him."
He had peered from the front and rear windows without catching sight of
the tiger. The reason was evident: the animal was so near the house that
he could not be observed without raising the sash and thrusting out the
head. It was well the lad was too prudent to do that.
Afraid that their voices might rouse his anger, the mother stepped to the
foot of the stairs and called to her boy,--
"Keep quiet, Tom! He is somewhere near, but we can't see him any more than
you. If we remain still, perhaps he will go away."
Jim Travers, having fanned the pieces of wood on the hearth into a
crackling blaze, stepped softly to the window against which the tiger had
flung himself, and bent his head in close attention.
"Mercy!" exclaimed Aunt Cynthia in an undertone, "come away; if he jumps
through, he will land on top of your head."
"_Sh!_" whispered the boy, holding up one hand as a warning for them to
keep silent; "_I hear him!_"
So he did. The tiger was trotting back and forth and round the building,
evidently seeking some mode of entrance. Clearly he was resolved to punish
the inmates for firing at him.
All stood still and listened. In the profound stillness the women caught
the faint sound made by the velvety feet of the brute in trotting to and
fro. He was traced as he made a complete circuit of the house, and then
paused at the window where he had attempted to leap through.
The low, threatening growl which escaped him sent a shiver through all.
Neither of the women dared to stir or speak. They expected every moment
that his effort would be repeated with success.
And now to the dismay of the two, Jim Travers did an extraordinary
thing,--one that almost took away their breath.
Running to the fireplace, he caught up the largest brand, with which he
hurried to the window, and raised the sash with one hand.
"What are you doing?" demanded Aunt Cynthia in consternation.
"Never mind me," replied the youth; "I'm all right."
And then they literally became speechless when they saw him slide back the
bolt which held the shutter in place. It looked as if he meant to open the
way for the tiger to enter the house.
While thus busy, Jim thought proper to add a word of explanation,--
"There's nothing that wild beasts is so afeard of as fire; that's what I'm
going to play on this chap."
The women were too frightened to protest.
After sliding back the fastenings, Jim stood leaning slightly forward, the
torch in one hand, while the other rested against the shutter, which was
not yet pushed open.
He was listening, and awaiting the opportune moment.
He plainly heard the _tip_, _tip_, of those feet, amid which a cavernous
growl now and then mingled; but he hesitated, for the tiger appeared to
be too far off to spring his scheme upon him.
Jim's coolness was marvelous. None was more terrified than he when the
beast broke out of the cage, and he was among the most panic-stricken that
dashed from the tent and fled homeward.
But here he was, like a veteran sportsman of the jungle, awaiting the
critical moment with what looked like nerves of steel. He listened with
all the acuteness of which he was master, and his keen ears did not
deceive him.
Suddenly he flung both shutters wide open, and let in the flood of
sunshine, which rendered useless the lamp on the table.
There was the tiger, no more than a dozen feet distant. The slight noise
caused him to stop abruptly and turn his head while walking away.
The sight of the lad seemed to whet his fury. He lashed his tail, growled,
and, swinging himself lightly round, cautiously approached the daring
youngster, as if not quite satisfied with the look of things.
Jim leaned farther through the window, and swung his torch round and
round, extending it at the same time toward the beast, which paused a few
steps off, as if to gather himself for the spring.
The lad felt the need of vigor. He whirled the torch harder, and reached
farther, shouting,--
"Get out, or I'll burn your head off! Come any nearer if you dare!"--
At this moment Jim, in his enthusiasm, leaned a trifle too far. His feet
slipped over the floor, and he sprawled headfirst out of the window.