1870. | MR. R. SWINHOE ON CHINESE MAMMALS. 627 
could distinctly hear growls, and peering over I saw the lips and 
feet of a 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 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 forthcoming. 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 pene- 
trating. His face was full towards me, and I gave him the cartridge 
right between the eyes. He gave a furious roar, and bounded into 
the garden, where he stood for a few 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 hollow caged 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 fired another shower of buttons at his face. I turned and fled ; 
but a roar followed which I never shall forget, and I found myself, 
breathless, at the bottom of a precipice, with my gun upraised, ex- 
pecting 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 splashing 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 hat, and shouted to my friend, who watched the pro- 
ceedings at a distance, that the Tiger was dead. At the noise the 
Tiger raised 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 hill 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 survived his wounds, I 
could never satisfactorily learn, so contradictory were the stories told. 
In 1859 and 1860 Tiger-cubs were offered in the market at Amoy 
for sale, and one of them was kept alive by a friend for many months. 
It eventually died, and I exhibited its skin before this Society on 
the 23rd of June, 1863*, comparing it with a skin of a Tiger from 
India of about the same age. It differed a little in the markings of 
* See P. Z. 8. 1863, p. 237. 
