TAPIR. 135 



painfully made our way, and emerged upon the 

 farther side, where we found ourselves faced by a 

 small hill. We reached its summit, and continued 

 along it for some distance. We had no idea how 

 far in front of us the animal was, and had to set 

 our pace as best we could, avoiding impatience on 

 the one hand and over-caution on the other, mindful 

 of the Scylla of carelessly disturbing the game and 

 the Charybdis of progressing at a slower rate than 

 it. After some time we heard the alarm again, the 

 sound of the headlong flight through the forest under- 

 growth, but again no call or cry of alarm. Then 

 suddenly there was a heavy crash, then another, then 

 another, a series of crashes, and then the sound of 

 a tremendous bump. The direction and nature of 

 the sounds told us what had happened. Somewhere 

 in front of us there was a ravine, and the tapir's 

 blind flight had taken it headlong down it. 



" Quick ! quick ! he has fallen," urged Malias, 

 pushing past me as, in my haste to follow, I caught 

 in a tangle of rattans. But I could not move. I 

 had fallen into the clutches of an enemy as beautiful 

 as it is vicious. A delicate-looking tendril, light as 

 the air upon which, far flung from the parent stem, 

 it bent in a graceful curve; bare for half its length, 

 and all along the lower half lovely with a wealth of 

 slender drooping leaves; strong as wire, and armed 

 throughout with rows upon rows of hawk-like talons, 

 had seized me by the shoulder. As I stooped to 

 free myself, two other airy tendrils, agitated by the 

 pull upon their stem and vindictive as hornets, leant 

 forward to dig a row of claws into my topi and my 



