THE LIGHTS OF CHANGE AT AS AH. 115 



imminent and awful as death incarnate. The wretched 

 man soon despaired of making himself heard by the 

 coolies in their shed below : they were a considerable 

 distance away, and as they were on a lower elevation, 

 B.'s voice did not reach down to them through the 

 heavy forest. There was nothing to be hoped for 

 from the Chinese boy, who had seen that his best 

 chance of safety lay in perfect silence though, poor 

 wretch, he too would probably have been glad to have 

 been able to relieve his feelings by yelling. Let those 

 who, under like circumstances, would have carried 

 unarmed a lamp from one house to another accuse 

 him of cowardice. 



B., though he had no hopes of obtaining assistance, 

 had no option but to continue shouting as long and as 

 often as he could, for the brute outside seemed to gain 

 encouragement, as evidenced by deeper and louder 

 sounds from any thing longer than a momentary silence. 

 Twice he tried to rise stealthily from his mattress 

 to make a rush from the door, but, though he at- 

 tempted to cover the sound of his movements by his 

 shouts, the creaking of the light flooring betrayed any 

 movement, and a savage growl warned him to desist. 

 Though in this agony of mind and utter physical 

 exhaustion, B. was, he said, beset by a curious diffi- 

 culty : he was at a loss for words to shout. He had 

 to shout to keep the tiger from leaping in upon him, 

 and he could not shout unless he could think of some- 

 thing to articulate. He had ceased to call for his 

 men, and for hours yelled furious orders to the tiger. 

 Finally, as hour after hour passed by in the alterna- 

 tions of the paroxysms of the man and the subdued 



