house and for a mile or two travelled at a rapid pace; but the narrow
winding road impeded their progress, and as the night advanced the
eerie sounds of the forest must have got on their nerves. At the
commencement of the journey they had beguiled the march with stories
of tigers and bears met in the forest, but after some hours of travel
they became silent; and beyond the usual directions of the forward
men concerning the road and occasionally a shrill cry to scare away
wild animals, they made no remarks to each other.

Within the palki, Bose lay fitfully dozing. The night was oppressive
and his thoughts were on the murder and his chances of a successful
capture of the wrong-doer. The road had become wider and level and
the men were going along at a good pace, when suddenly they dropped
the palki to the ground and fled in all directions. Bose shouted:
"What is up? Why have you run away?" No answer greeted his ears but
a strange odour penetrated his nostrils and he knew there was a tiger
in the jungle. He quickly pulled the doors of the palki jamming them
as securely as he could with the ends of his razai (quilt). Then he
tore the strong border off his dhoti (loin cloth) and commenced to
bind the handles of the doors together. He had just finished firmly
lashing together the handles on one side when he heard an ominous
growling. With frantic haste he bound the handles of the opposite doors
together, praying fervently that he might escape the jaws of the tiger.

The animal continued growling. Evidently the dark bulk of the palki
frightened him. Bose sat inside, huddled in a heap and breathless. The
tiger, re-assured by the stillness of the object before him, ceased
growling; and presently, the soft thud of his feet and his sniffing
round the palki told the trembling man within that 'Stripes' was
making an investigation.