Suddenly the stillness of the night was broken by a rapid crash
through the dry grass near the palki, and with a thrilling roar a
tiger leapt at the man and dragged him away. The palki shook, and
the bearer's piteous cry "Babu-ji, Babu-ji, I told you" filled the
forest, and echoed and echoed again as the tiger bore him away. Then
all became still.

Gupta realised what had happened. He lay back sick with horror, and
felt as if he were the guilty one. For many a day the old man's dying
wail rang in his ears.



Through the Roof

They were laying the railway through the Hazaribagh district, and
in a low-roofed bungalow at Giridih lived the Engineer in charge of
the work. He was a young Englishman and his only recreation in this
dreary place was riding and shooting.

The coolies lived in frail little mat houses in the same enclosure
as his bungalow. One morning they came to him in a body to tell him
that during the night a tiger had carried off one of their cows. The
next morning another cow was missing, and on the third his servants
awakened him with the news that his Arab pony was gone.

He loved the little animal. Many a mile had he scoured on its
back. "Stripes" must be punished for this. He would sit up the coming
night and watch.