36 RIFLE AND ROMANCE 



a native drum was throbbing softly. There was a little 

 Korku village down there it was Sirisban, and round 

 it the jungle grows almost up to the doors of the few 

 tiny huts. 



A soft clacking of rude cattle-bells could now be heard 

 as the village kine approached their home, wending their 

 way in slowly from the daily grazing-grounds. The tiger 

 had silently vanished. 



The little mob of hill cattle came slowly into view, 

 herded by a couple of children. They were pacing slowly 

 and sleepily onwards in the yellow afterglow, past the 

 steep bank of the nullah, past a depression filled with 

 rank undergrowth and a tangle of dried creepers. All 

 was peaceful, tranquil, and still. The herd passed on. 

 Behind, one of them lingered in the rear. Then he too 

 had just passed the outskirts of the jungle. 



Suddenly there was a silent rush, and immediately a 

 furious clatter arose ; every tail stuck up affrightedly in 

 air ; and in an instant the cattle were stampeding and 

 galloping madly away, leaving the laggard struggling 

 violently with a strange striped object. The herd-boys 

 screamed out, pluckily beating their hollow bamboo 

 cudgels on the ground. Next moment the released 

 bullock, bleeding about the neck and shoulders from a 

 number of deep scratches, went rushing frantically after 

 his fellows towards the village, while something long and 

 low glided away into the shadows whence it had come. 



There was a confused uproar and shouting round the 

 cattle-pens for some time after this ; but the night soon 

 fell swiftly dark, and the disturbance gradually came to 

 an end. 



The young tiger's timidity had been but temporary, 

 and this repulse only left his appetite whetted to a yet 

 keener edge. He crept out from his covert and furtively 

 approached the village in the dark. Long he sat there, 

 at a little distance, his chest a faint whitish patch in the 



