Abe suffered for several days from an attack of rheumatism in his
shoulder, brought on by his immersion in the flood waters, and he
applied himself steadily to the manufacture of a wonderful lotion, in
which camphorated oil was the main stock, with a dash of turpentine, a
strong trace of eucalyptus, and a few drops of the powerful euphorbia
juice, together with extracts from sundry potent herbs. When I visited
him this concoction was brewing in a pot, the steam from which filled
the house with an extremely pungent smell.
"There," said he, holding up a wooden ladle full of the mixture, "jes'
take a sniff of that. That's the sort to sift right through you, and
yank out rheumatics from the knuckle joints."
"It certainly is strong."
"Yes, sonny; but it lacks one thing."
"What's that?"
"Jes' a lump, as big as your fist, of fat from a tiger's inside."
"Is that so?"
"'Tw'd give substance to it; bind all these yer scents together, and
make 'em settle down to their work instead of fighting against each
other. This euphorby juice is mighty cantankerous, and is given to
blisterin' unless it's toned down by tiger fat."
"Well, Uncle, that black tiger is still alive."
"Hum! I don't know that the black tiger is good for this purpose. What
do you say?"
"I know nothing about it; but, if any tiger is good, I should say a
black tiger, by reason of his greater strength, should suit best, and,
if you remember, you said you had a plan for trapping him. I believe
he's still in the big kloof."
"Yes, he's there. That ole man baboon's been aroun' here, and maybe
he's got some notion of showing me where the black fellow takes his
snooze. I'll jes' think over it."
"If you want any help I can bring along some dogs and a couple of guns?"
"Dogs, eh! Seems to me that tiger's too smart for dogs. He chawed up
one of yours. I don't want no dogs, sonny, and if this tiger is to be
downed, he's got to be downed by cunning. You leave him to me."
After the lapse of a week I rode over to see how the old man had
succeeded, and found him peacefully employed boiling down wax berries
for the manufacture of candles for his own lighting--the rheumatism,
apparently, having been vanquished.
"Hallo! Abe," I said, taking a look round the room, "where's the tiger
skin?"
"I speck it's on the tiger."
"So your plan didn't succeed?" Abe solemnly skimmed a ladle full of
melted wax from the water, and poured it into a bamboo mould.
"Berries is terrible skerce this season. Time was when a body could
gather a bagful in a day from the bushes above the beach; but now--lor',
everything's different now. This very earth's agoing downhill--it's
getting played out."
"Are you mixing any tiger fat with that wax, Uncle, to bind it?"
"Maybe goose fat would be better, sonny; have you got any to spare?"
"That tiger must be a cunning beast if he's got the better of you,
Uncle!"
He shook his head gravely. "He's no tiger. He's jes' a ole witch
prowling aroun', that's what he is."
"Eh?"
"Yes. You believe me, that's what ole Black Sam is. I worked out a
plan to catch him, supposin' I could find where he put up in the
daytime, and what path he took on setting out in the night, for you know
these critturs in the woods don't go along anyhow, but follow paths jes'
as you or me would, and some of these paths they're more fond of than
others. Well, I kep' watch on that ole man baboon, and when I see him
strolling along outside the kloof I up and follered him. He knew, bless
you, what I was after, and the way he led me into the dark of that kloof
was a caution; so silent he went, and so careful to take the proper
track. Bymby he stopped and pointed--yes, pointed with his finger at
the ground--then he jumped for a bough, and there he sat grinning an'
working his eyebrows. Well, blow me, ef there wer'n't a spoor of the
tiger where he pointed, and squinting along through the underbush I see
a clean walk which the tiger had made--the sides of the trees worn
smooth and the ground jes' trodden down. That was enough. So I went
home and made a pill of meat, with enough poison in it to kill a museum
full of stuffed critturs. Nex' morning I went down, and if that baboon
hadn't a almost stopped me by force I'd a run bang into that tiger."
"Was he dead?"
"Dead! Thunderation! he was jes' lying full-stretched for a spring from
a tree branch jes' above where I laid that pill, awaiting for me to come
along. The baboon jes' invited me to climb a tree, and looking through
the leaves, I spotted that black devil, with his tail a-switching and
a-jerking. I jes' climbed down, and slipped off like a shadder, with my
heart in my boots. Well, I did some thinking. You know cats is fond of
certain smells, so is dogs--only dogs is not so dainty as cats. It's
jes' the same with a tiger, and he's got a nose for a partickler herb
which he rubs his head into. I dug up one of these year herbs, and I
fixed it up fine, jes' over the spring of a big man trap. Then, it
being near dusk, I climbed into a yeller wood, and waited for Black Sam
to walk up and put his foot into the jaws of that trap; but the dark
came before he did, and then I wasn't going to trust myself in the
wood--so there I stuck, with the stiffness in all my bones, till the
morning. By gum! it were skeery work, sittin' up there with the wind
moaning over the tree, and sounds of creeping things all aroun'. Then,
blame me! the first thing I clapped eyes on in the morning was that
black crittur standing there in the path, staring at that scent bush
'sif it were somethin' to be suspicious about instead of a nice smellin'
bottle. There he stood like a dark shadder, working his nose for maybe
half an hour, when he walked all around, finally sitting down on his
tail with a pucker between his eyes jes'sif he were thinking. Yes, he
sat there working his brain; then up he stood, looked about for a
spell--then, I'm hanged, if he didn't pick up a dry stick in his mouth
and poke it at that bush."
"What's that?"
"Yes, sir. He jes' sprung the trap. Of course, soon's he poked the
bush the spring give, and the jaws flew together with a snap that bit
clean through the stick. Then that there witch reached for the bush
with his claw, and fetched a grin that spread all over his face like a
gash in a water-melon. Then he smelt that trap all over and began to
switch his tail, and with a growl in his stummick off he went slinking
on my trail, taking long strides with his ears flattened. Luckily he
went on the long trail leading from the house, and soon's he'd gone I
lit out for the top of the krantz, where I could see the veld right up
to my door."
"Well?"
"Well, after a time, I saw him crossing the veld, making himself small
when he was on the level, and running when he got in a holler. Right up
near the house he went and hid himself in a clump of wild cotton,
waiting and watching for me to come out o' the door. I tell you he
stopped there till the sun was right over head, then suddenly he ran
right up to the house and looked in at the winder. I never was so glad
at being not at home to a visitor. He walked all round the house and
got on the roof; then he came back, full lick, having made up his mind I
was in the kloof. Yes, then I made a bee line for home, and shut myself
in."
"And that ends it?"
"No, sonny, it's the beginning of the chapter. He's jes' scheming to
get me; but the ole baboon's on the watch and maybe I'll have the black
skin yet."