The Tiger 213 



ardice of these beasts, — how they slink away from before 

 the face of man and cannot endure his look, how they will 

 never assail him if not provoked, and how they die like 

 curs at last, — it is natural, and a mere suggestion of com- 

 mon sense, to think that these are ex parte statements, 

 premature generalizations, sweeping conclusions from 

 special experiences, and misinterpretations of observations 

 that a little diligence and proper intellectual sincerity 

 upon the part of their narrators would have shown to be 

 more than counterbalanced by facts of a different com- 

 plexion. 



No two tigers are identical in anything, and all the ele- 

 ments of uncertainty and dispute which have been speci- 

 fied make their appearance when we come into contact 

 with them. Nobody knows or can know what will happen 

 then. Silently like some grim ghost, the animal may steal 

 within shot, and fall dead at the first fire. Sometimes he 

 bursts from a dense clump of bushes that the hunter's 

 sight has been unable to penetrate, and if hit, rages round 

 the tree from which the ball came as if mad ; or, if his 

 foes be within reach, he kills or is killed. Occasionally 

 when not well watched by lookouts, the first intimation 

 that his domain has been invaded is the signal for a retreat 

 to some secure hiding-place, — the pits and passages of an 

 abandoned mine, or a cave perhaps, in which latter case, if 

 it be attempted to dislodge him by an indraught of smoke 

 from fire kindled at its mouth, it will be seen that a tiger 

 can breathe in an atmosphere such as would seem to be nec- 

 essarily fatal to any animal. Finally, the brute may break 

 back and attack the beaters, or creep through their line. 



