Babus, servants and coolies loudly approved. What was life worth with
such nightly happenings? and the lord of the jungle would surely come
again. Had he not discovered a well-filled larder?

Work over, the young man loaded his gun, and after dinner took up
his position and awaited the enemy. A reliable servant sat up with him.

The bungalow was raised on piles a few feet from the ground. It had
brick walls but a thatched roof which sloped very low down on all
sides. The wooden windows were closed. Our friend sat at one of them
with the Venetians slightly stretched. The bungalow was dark and still.

At last a strange odour filled the air and then the heavy breathing of
the tiger was audible. It came and stood just outside the window. The
young fellow noiselessly pointed his gun through the Venetians and
fired. An angry growl told that the tiger was wounded. Then it charged
forward with a furious roar. The Englishman fired again and this
time thought he had finished it. But the animal charged again with
increased rage. After several attempts at the window it leapt for
the roof and succeeded in clutching the eaves and scrambled up. The
terrified servant cried: "Saheb, come into another room".

"Don't be a fool!" shouted his master, "the tiger can't come through
the roof."

In their huts the poor coolies heard the shots and the terrible roars
and growls and dared not come to their master's assistance. The tiger
tore and scratched the thatch with all his might and soon made a
hole. "Look! Saheb!" screamed the servant, "he comes through".