Hitherto the features of Clara had expressed nothing more than a kind of
vague fear; but at the moment when the canoe rounded the last turn in
the river, a sudden terror became depicted upon them. The hunter thus
warned quickly faced round. An immense plain came before his eye, that
seemed to stretch to the verge of the horizon. Through this ran the
river, its waters almost on a level with the banks--which were covered
with a grassy sward, and without a single tree. At some distance from
the curve the stream almost doubled back on itself--forming a verdant
delta, around the apex of which ran the road that led to the hacienda
Las Palmas.
The rays of the setting sun were flooding the plain with a transparent
golden haze, which hung over the empurpled bosom of the water on which
the canoe was floating. Just above, in the middle of the current, and
scarce two shots distant from where the two men were, a sight appeared
to the ravished eyes of the tiger-hunter that caused him at once to
change his position in the boat.
"_Mira_!" exclaimed he in a half-whisper. "Look, Clara! Did you ever
behold a more beautiful sight?"
With his claws stuck into the floating carcass of a colt upon which he
was feeding, an enormous jaguar was suffering himself to float gently
down the stream. It was the male one, the same from which the last
howlings had proceeded.
With his head outstretched and curving over his fore paws, his hind legs
drawn up under his belly, his back highly arched, and his flanks
quivering with a supple undulation that betokened activity and power,
was seen the royal beast of the American jungle. The dying rays of the
sun falling upon his glossy skin displayed his splendid coat of bright
yellow ocellated with spots of deepest black.
It was one of those beautiful savage spectacles often exhibited to the
eyes of the Indian hunter--a magnificent episode in that eternal poem
which the wilderness is constantly repeating.
Scarce taking time to gaze upon it, Costal passed the paddle to his
companion; and, gun in hand, crouched down in the bottom of the canoe.
Clara accepted the oar, and half mechanically commenced rowing. He had
made no reply to the enthusiastic interrogatory of the hunter. Fear
held him speechless.
At that moment a growl, resembling the deepest tones of an ophicleide,
resounded from the throat of the jaguar, rolling over the surface of the
water to the ears of the men seated in the canoe. He had seen his
enemies, and this was his signal of defiance.
The Indian replied by a cry somewhat similar, as the bloodhound utters
his wild bay on seeing his victim before him.
"It's the male!" said Costal, apparently pleased that it was so.
"Fire, then!" cried Clara, at last finding his tongue.
"Fire, _Carrambo_! no. My gun does not carry so far. Besides, I shoot
best when my game is nearer the muzzle. I wonder," continued he,
looking up to the bank, "that the female has not found him! No doubt,
if we wait a little, we'll see her coming bounding up with the
_cachorros_ at her heels."
"_Dios nos ampare_!" (God preserve us!) muttered the negro in a
melancholy tone; for he feared that Costal would still insist upon his
carrying out the plan he had proposed. "God preserve us! I hope not:
one at a time is sufficient."
The words were scarce out of the negro's mouth, when a sharp screech,
heard at some distance, proclaimed the coming of the other jaguar; and
the moment after she was seen bounding over the savanna, with a rapidity
and gracefulness superb beyond admiration.
At the distance of about two hundred yards from the bank, as also from
the canoe, she came to a sudden stop; and with muzzle raised aloft,
scenting the air, and flanks quivering like an arrow after striking its
mark, she remained for some moments fixed to the spot. Meanwhile the
two whelps, that had been left in the covert of the bushes, were seen
hastening to join her. The canoe, no longer propelled by the paddle,
began to spin round with the ripple, keeping about the same distance
between it and the tiger crouched on the floating carcass.
"For Heaven's sake, Clara," said Costal impatiently, "keep the boat's
head to the current, or I shall never get close enough to fire. There
now--that is right--keep a steady hand--mine never shakes. It is
important I should kill this jaguar at the first shot. If not, one of
us is lost, to a certainty. Perhaps both; for if I miss we shall have
both the brutes to contend with, to say nothing of the brace of whelps."
All this while the jaguar was quietly descending the stream upon his
floating pedestal, and the distance between him and the canoe was
gradually diminishing. Already could be seen his fiery eyeballs rolling
in their sockets, and the quick oscillations of his tail, expressive of
his gathering rage.
The hunter had taken aim, and was about to pull trigger, when the canoe
commenced rocking about, as if tossed upon a stormy sea!
"What the devil are you about, Clara?" inquired the Indian in an angry
tone. "If you move in that way I could not hit one in a whole crowd of
tigers."
Whether it was through design, or that fear was troubling his senses,
and causing him to shift about, Clara, instead of keeping quiet, only
seemed to shake all the more.
"A thousand devils take you!" cried Costal, with increased rage. "Just
then I had him between the eyes."
Laying down his gun, the hunter snatched the paddle from the hands of
the black, and set about turning the canoe into its proper position.
This proved a work of some little time; and before Costal could succeed
in accomplishing his purpose, the tiger had taken to flight. Giving
utterance to a loud scream, the animal buried his sharp teeth in the
carcass, tore from it a large mouthful, and then making a desperate
bound passed from the floating body to the bank. In another moment he
had rejoined his mate with her young ones, and all were soon beyond the
range of the hunter's carbine. The two terrible creatures appeared to
hesitate as to whether they should return to the attack, or retreat.
Then giving a simultaneous scream, both stretched off at full gallop
across the plain, followed by their _cachorros_.
The disappointed hunter looked after them, giving utterance to a fierce
exclamation expressive of his disappointment. Then seating himself in
the stern of the canoe, he turned its head down stream, and put forth
all his strength to regain the point from which they had set out.