ADVENTURE WITH A TIGER. 



39 



and had the satisfaction of carrying him into the station in triumph, where his skin is preserved as a 

 witness of this strange Tiger-hunt. The Elephant, though it got one nasty bite, and was badly 

 scratched about the trunk and fore-legs, is now none the worse for its single combat with the monarch 

 of the Indian forests." 



We mentioned above that the Tiger rarely attacks man unless provoked. When, however, he is 

 hard pressed for a meal, he will often visit inhabited spots, and then is as likely to choose human as 

 bovine food. Imagine the sensation likely to arise in a small village, inhabited only by a few unarmed, 

 or at least but poorly armed men, with their wives and children, by such an occurrence .as the 

 following, related by an English traveller : 



" On the llth of November of the same year I chanced to meet a Tiger myself. I was on the 

 shore of the mainland opposite Amoy, in the afternoon, looking out for small birds, in company with, 

 a friend. I carried a gun, but had only small shot and one cartridge. Some villagers came running 

 to us crying ' Go and shoot the Tiger ! ' I thought they were making game of us, until some of them 

 assured us that there really was a Tiger in a neighbouring village, and that they would be much 

 obliged if we would kill it. They led us to a village at the foot of a hill near the shore, where we 

 found men, women, and children huddled outside in great alarm. Many of the men were armed with 

 matchlocks. They desired us to take off our boots, and one of the men guided us over the roofs of the 

 houses to the last house near the hill, and, pointing to a large rock, he made us listen. We could 

 distinctly hear growls, and peering over I sav; the lips and feet of the Tiger under the overhanging 

 rock. The house on which we stood presented a wall facing the rock, and about two yards distant. 

 We went inside, and I persuaded the owner to make a hole in the wall. I had no means of drawing 

 the charge of my gun, so I rammed down a cartridge on the top of the small shot in one barrel, and a 

 few hollow buttons into the other. In the hurry and excitement no bullets or iron nails were forth- 

 coming. The Tiger noticed the hole in the wall, but only growled. I fired the button barrel first, 

 aimed at its neck, but he only answered by a growl, and I saw that the buttons had done no more 

 than turn up the skin without penetrating. His jaw was full towards me, and I gave him the 

 cartridge right between his eyes. He gave a furious roar, and bounded into the garden, where he 

 stood for some seconds bleeding from the nose, and with his tongue lolling from his mouth. I had no 

 more cartridges with me, so I loaded again with the metal-edged buttons which the villagers tore off 

 their coats for me. The Tiger had moved away, and I tracked him by his blood into a dilapidated 

 temple. I looked in at the window, and there stretched beside a coffin sat the noble beast. He 

 turned his head and growled as he saw me, and, without a moment's thought I raised the barrels and 

 tired another shower of buttons in his face. I turned and fled ; but a roar followed which I shall 

 never forget, and I found myself, breathless, at the bottom of a precipice, with my gun upraised, 

 expecting to see the angry creature upon me ; but strange enough he did not follow. The villagers, 

 who were assembled two hundred yards away, all ran when I ran ; but seeing the Tiger did not pursue, 

 one of them came forward and put me on his knees, and patting me on the back, helped to bring back 

 my breath, which I had lost by the fall. We crept up to the window again. Every one of the 

 thick wooden bars had been knocked out by the force of the leap ; but from the blood only splash- 

 ing the outside of the window, it was evident the Tiger had not come out of the building. We looked 

 in at the window, and just below, outstretched on the floor in a pool of blood, lay the Tiger. I threw 

 up my hand and shouted to my friend, who watched the proceedings at a distance, that the Tiger was 

 dead. At the noise, the Tiger i-aised his head and growled. He was a Cat, of course, and had the usual 

 nine lives. I went to the villagers and proposed a joint attack, but they would not consent. Some of them 

 ascended the hills behind and fired on to the roof of the house in which the Tiger was sheltered. It was 

 getting dark, so breathless and hurt I took boat and returned to Amoy. A few hours after the Tiger 

 is said to have moved away ; but whether he died or recovered his wounds I could never satisfactorily 

 learn, so contradictory were the stories told." 



Mr. Thomson recounts a tale of a planter in this province, who, returning home after a carouse, 

 a little too much under the influence of Scotch whisky, was sorely bested by a Tiger. " It was 

 rather dark, and verging on the small hours of morning when MacNab, mounting on his trusty 

 steed, set his face towards home. Feeling at peace with all men, and even with the beasts of prey, he 

 cantered along a road bordered with mangroves, admiring the fitful gleams of the fire-flies that were 



