AT THE TIGER'S KILL
The island twilight was brief. When the sun departed from that speck
of verdure in the purple sea, the covetous darkness seemed to form like
a presence that had crouched to bide its time.
Grenville was early on the scene of the tiger's previous feast. He had
no idea how soon after sundown the jungle monarch might appear. It was
not such a place as inspired hilarious joy in the heart, in any
circumstances. Moreover, one last examination of the bomb and fuse,
and one clear impression of the features beneath and about his tree,
seemed to Sidney a wise precaution.
The day had, therefore, barely ended when he climbed aloft to his
perch. The end of the fuse was tied to a limb a little removed from
his feet. He closed his eyes and found it with his hand, by way of
making certain it should not be missed in the dark. The larger and
denser of the forms below, created by shadows and growing plants, he
noted in their relation to the kill. The latter was not to be clearly
seen, since a screen of leaves he had purposely left to conceal his
presence from the banqueter, served to shield it from his view.
Finally, closing his eyes again, he practiced retreating behind the
trunk itself, as he knew he must do when nothing could be seen and his
fuse was finally lighted. This was rather a delicate operation to
manage in the dark. He made up his mind it must be calmly done, for
ample time would be provided by the generous length of fuse.
This length, by the way, was considerably less than he had formerly
employed. The bomb was, therefore, nearer to his stand. Yet the bulk
of the tree-trunk was, he thought, an entirely adequate protection
should he have the delight of hearing his powder explode.
Through the lattice of leaves he presently beheld the last of the day's
dying splendor. The army of shadows, already on the march, was taking
rapid possession of all the jungle deeps. The same impatience he had
felt before, the same vague dread and loneliness previously
experienced, and the same slow drag of time impressed themselves upon
his senses.
He wondered how long his brand would last, although it was longer than
the other. He wondered about Elaine, on the hill, and how tedious the
hours would seem to her. But the constant, underlying worry was--when
would the tiger arrive?
Elaine's suggestion was a bother. Might there not be hogs so
plentiful, quarry so readily captured, that the overdisdainful monarch
would prefer warm meat to cold?
There was no mysterious cipher to be studied here to-night. There was
nothing, in fact, with which to pass the time. Not even a new
speculation concerning the cave and the rotting barque arose to give
him entertainment. The haunting, suggestive stillness engulfed him
where he sat. The world below had merged in one featureless gloom.
Except for a few fringed patches of sky between the leaves and
branches, there was nothing but velvety blackness to be seen above or
below.
He waited and waited, a time that seemed eternal. His resting-place
was hard and uneven. One of his legs was cramped. To shift about and
make no noise was not an easy matter.
Without the slightest warning, suddenly down below him something leaped
and crashed through the thicket with a most unexpected sound. Whatever
it was, it went bounding off, recklessly parting the jungle. Some
creature in fright it undoubtedly was--and Grenville was instantly
rigid and alert for the next development.
He was certain the tiger, coming to his feast, had thrown some timid
creature into a panic of blind and desperate fear. He listened, with
all his powers of concentration, for the sounds that should presently
succeed.
But save for another plunging, far beyond, there was absolute silence
as before. For fully half an hour after that the stillness was
well-nigh insupportable, so fraught was it all with the tragic sense of
noiseless life where both hunted and hunters moved about with the
cushioned feet of shadows.
Far off towards the spring, or the estuary, a disturbance finally
arose. It was neither loud nor clear. It seemed to interpret some
struggle for life, or pursuit of the weak by the strong. It approached
for a time, then ceased for nearly half a minute, only to break into
clearer accents of some brute's agony, poignant but mercifully brief.
At this the discouragement in Grenville's breast was unavoidably
increased. He was certain the tiger had taken fresher prey, and would
now ignore his former kill. So intent were his senses on that far-off
bit of jungle drama that he failed to detect a nearer sound repeated
beneath his feet.
When his sharp ears abruptly warned him that something was moving down
below, an extraordinary climax to his adventure was swiftly coming to a
focus.
Some creature had come to the tiger's kill--of that there could be no
doubt. It was lapping, or chewing at the meat!
Unable to distinguish the slightest thing in all that Stygian darkness,
Grenville paused, with his brand slightly shielded from the creature's
possible notice, waiting a moment to confirm the fact that a banqueter
was present before he touched the fuse.
A tremendous roar instantly startled the silence, a few feet beyond the
boar's remains. Before the man could move a hand, either to light the
ready fuse or steady himself in the branches, some heavy form was
hurled against the tree in which he sat--_and that something was
climbing madly upward_!
Only a tremor had shivered through the trunk, but the limbs were bent
and the foliage stirred as if from a breath of heavy wind. That the
creature might run against himself and turn to fight, in its double
fear and desperation, Grenville was keenly aware.
Subconsciously, also, he was equally sure the tiger was below. The
catlike thing in the tree with himself had undoubtedly dared to sit
down at the huge brute's kill, to flee for its life a moment later.
Instinctively turning to protect himself and thoroughly disturbed by
this unforeseen complication, Grenville heard his unwelcome companion
utter one sudden whine, of surprise and added terror, as it came
abreast him in the branches.
It dared not retreat, and, therefore in a wilder panic, clawed its way
higher up the tree. The limbs continued to shake their leaves for
another protracted moment. Then the beast found a place to halt above
his head, and doubtless glared down upon the unknown peril which man
supplies to all the brutes.
Grenville recovered his wits as best he might. He had no particular
dread of the animal crouched somewhere in his neighborhood, but neither
did he relish its presence. What effect the affair would have on the
creature he had come there to engage he could not, of course, determine.
He bent to listen for sounds from the space below. Not the faintest
suggestion of a moving or feeding animal could his focused senses
detect. He thought perhaps the tiger might have smelled him or seen
him in the tree. It occurred to him, also, the brute might be waiting
for the catlike thief to descend and be slain at the kill.
But a far more likely supposition was that the tiger, having sniffed
the taint of some beast without caste, now left on the meat that was
sacred to himself, had disdained to touch it, and had gone away, to
return to the place no more.
Ready to curse the despicable animal now sharing the tree's security
with himself, Sidney was all but resigned to another long night, spent
in vain and in utter discomfort, when once again a lapping sound came
crisply to his attention.
His brute was at the feast!
With heart abruptly pounding and senses suddenly tense, Grenville
leaned down, with his glowing brand, to complete his work for the night.
His hand felt blindly along the limb, to pick up the end of the fuse.
But someway the place was lost. More eagerly then, and telling off
each twig like a sign that blazed the trail, he explored the branch
anew.
He found the fiber that had held the fuse--but the fuse itself was
gone! The panic-stricken creature that had climbed the tree had clawed
or broken it down!
A bitterer disappointment to Grenville could scarcely have been
planned. He was sickened all through by disgust, and a sense of the
utter uselessness of all he had striven to accomplish. With fire in
hand, the bomb all laid, and the tiger actually present--he was
helpless, after all!
It was futile to rage at the cowering beast, above him somewhere in the
darkness. He glanced up once and saw its eyes--two blazing coals of
fear and malice, like near-by sinister stars!
"By Heavens! I'll not be cheated!" he murmured to himself. A mad new
thought had possessed him.
The fuse had been drawn about the tree before it could be fastened near
his perch. Had it fallen straight down, when torn from its hold, it
would still lie close at hand.
His ladder was hidden from the tiger's position by the tree. Any
sounds he must make might be thought to be those of the cat. There was
no particular danger in descending to the ground--with the ladder near
with which to regain a safe position.
Noiselessly, yet not without excitement, he began his retreat from the
branches. With every step he paused for a bit, to listen to the sounds
of the tiger.
The brute was seemingly quite engrossed in the business of filling his
belly. But, despite his utmost efforts at silence, the leaves of one
of the branches loudly rustled as Grenville's weight was intrusted to
the ladder.
He halted and held his breath. The tiger continued his eating.
Holding his firebrand firmly in his teeth, Grenville slowly and
cautiously descended, with the furtive alertness of a thief.
When he reached the earth, he was certain his heart would betray his
presence with its pounding. He leaned there, heavily, against the
tree, to still the mad leap of his pulses. Then, at length, he began
to feel about for the fuse that should be at his feet.
It was not to be found--and he moved a little outward. His hand came
in contact with a long, slender thing--but it proved to be a creeper.
Further and further out he moved, blindly groping with his fingers. He
encountered a shrub, and, fumbling between it and the tree, bethought
him to feel about its crest. There he found one end of the fuse he
sought--but it proved that the length had been broken! He held the
useless end!
One despair after another had seized him within an endless minute.
More recklessly, in a burning fever of impatience, he pawed about and
moved even closer to the tiger--whose sounds were horribly near.
He could almost have uttered a cry of joy when the severed fuse was
discovered. He waited for nothing, but immediately pressed his brand
against the sun-dried substance.
There was no powder there. It had spilled when it broke, and it
harmlessly smoked as it burned.
Why a groan did not escape him, Sidney could never have told. He broke
off the tough, resisting substance six inches further along and again
applied his spark.
It seemed as if in all its length there could be no powder remaining.
He was savagely grasping the fuse once more, to break it at a fresher
place, when a fiery-red line, some four feet away, seemed creeping like
a snake out beyond him.
The spark that was racing along to the bomb had been started while
still he was sweating there with baffled and excited impatience.
He took no time for further caution, but sprang away to the shelter of
the tree and caught at a lungful of breath.
There was not a sound in all the place. This much he knew in that
second, as he hugged up close to the trunk. The tiger had ceased to
lap at the meat, and perhaps was poised for a spring.
It seemed to Grenville, waiting there, that nothing would ever happen.
A thousand doubts went darting through his brain. The fuse had failed!
It was broken again. Or, perhaps----
A low growl broke the stillness. There was a sound of something moving
towards the tree!
Instantly a frightful red-and-yellow glare leaped upward from the
earth. A deafening, crashing detonation rent the intimate universe and
shook down incredible stars. The air was filled to overcrowding with
rushing billows of concussion that rocked the trees as in a storm.
Grenville went down, dazed and helpless, unable to think, so jarred to
chaos were his senses. But, beyond being stunned for a moment, he was
totally unhurt.
He leaped to his feet, aware of some mighty disturbance in the curdled,
heavy darkness that had followed.
The tiger it was, in some extravagant activity, moving towards
Grenville and the thicket. He was almost upon the staggering man
before he could move to escape. Then Grenville stumbled towards the
ladder.
The jar to the limb, as he tugged at a rung, brought something down
from above. This was the creature that had hidden in the tree. It had
partially fallen, earlier stunned by the huge concussion. It dropped
upon Grenville leadenly--and down he went in a heap.
The three sworn enemies--tiger, man, and jungle-cat--were embroiled on
the earth together. Before the man could sufficiently recover to
stagger from his knees to his feet and grasp his club, the tiger flung
out a mighty paw, that struck him a blow upon the chin.
Without a sound he sank limberly down, inert and helplessly unconscious.