One evening Sir M. retired to his own tent immediately after dinner. He
was very tired but as he was not sleepy, he made himself comfortable
and settled down on a long-sleeved chair with a book. His tent was
a small one, with a camp cot, a couple of chairs and a table. On the
table stood a reading lamp. M. was soon absorbed in his book and did
not notice how the hours fled. The camp became quiet and still. It
was a dark close night and the door of his tent stood open, for he
was a lover of air. He had read on for some time when his attention
was drawn to a movement of his tent wall. It seemed to him as if
some one or something was rubbing along the side. He put down his
book and got on to his feet to see what it could be. As he was about
to step forward the head of a tiger loomed in the doorway, the eyes
gleaming brightly. Sir M. stood motionless with surprise and "Stripes"
stepped into the tent. He was a fine specimen of a Royal Bengal tiger,
and M. forgot everything in his admiration of the noble animal.

The table with the lamp upon it stood between Sir M. and the tiger,
and each stood on either side of it gazing at each other. As the silent
seconds passed, Sir M. realized that he was in danger and bethought
him of his rifle which was almost within reach of his hand; but he
dared not move and so continued gazing steadfastly at his visitor. The
tiger too stood, surveying his vis-a-vis and then began to move round
the table. The lamp either attracted or annoyed him and he raised
his paw to the table. The weight of the huge paw tilted the table,
the lamp toppled and fell with a crash. The terrified tiger gave a
mighty roar, turned tail and fled.

The camp was aroused. Everyone shouted and rushed out into the night,
armed with some weapon or other. Sir M. related to his brother guns
what had happened and they all enjoyed a good laugh and rather envied