SEA TRAGEDY OF THE JUNGLE FOLK 141 
reached out and grabbed a native by the throat, 
whipping him through the air and breaking his 
neck. The native struck the ground several yards 
away, blood pouring from his nose and mouth. 
I yelled to the men to cast the second net and 
secure it to the trees. The orangs kept up a con- 
stant battle, lashing and heaving under the ropes 
that pressed them to the ground. Their arms and 
legs became entangled in the meshes of the nets, 
and they wasted their strength in wrenching and 
squirming, while we fastened them down. The 
natives, crazy with excitement, pressed in, tumbling 
over one another. 
Our material had been put to the greatest test and 
would hold the animals, I knew, for they could not 
again equal the struggle of the first few minutes. 
So, because I wanted them to have room to become 
thoroughly tangled in the nets, I ordered the ropes 
slackened a trifle. 
Just then, while I was standing near the nets, 
superintending the work of making them fast, a 
huge paw shot out and grabbed my ankle. I was 
jerked off the ground and, as I fell, my hands 
caught the limb of a tree. I clung to it with all 
my strength, feeling my fingers weaken and slip 
while the brute pulled. The joints at my hip and 
knee pained me for an instant; then my leg became 
numb. The men stood terrified and I could not yell 
at them! I felt myself growing dizzy and I simply 
wondered why some one did not do something. 
