132 BIG GAME FIELDS 



slightly open, his black lips quivered and drooled 

 with the expectancy of a meal; his spotted tail 

 waved from side to side at the extreme tip, ever 

 so gently, as he crouched, belly to the ground, all 

 his muscles tense. 



At last a paw of the stalker went out, with in- 

 finite caution, and remained there. Very slowly, 

 indeed, another followed and passed it. And 

 then, inch by inch, paw by paw, each advanced in 

 turn with almost inconceivable stealth, a gray 

 shadow, a mere suggestion of shape, began to 

 creep along. So slowly did it travel, this phan- 

 tom form, only a few inches in height that it 

 was only after long intervals of time that it 

 seemed to have moved perceptibly nearer. 



Then, into the moonlight, from the gloom of 

 the big mora trees, shot a long, low, shadowy 

 form. Fifteen feet from the tapir there was the 

 slightest noticeable pause; the lithe and muscu- 

 lar form gathered itself together like a most 

 powerfully compressed steel spring. The jag- 

 uar sailed through the air. There was a dull thud 

 and a clattering of hoofs as one of the tapirs 

 went galloping in terror off through the jungle, 

 while something of great strength clutched at 

 the nape of the neck of the other. Five cruelly 

 lacerating claws fixed themselves into her long, 



