It seemed there were niceties of cruelty in this wretched
game. There was a sharp clank as the windlasses were manned, and
the tethering chains were drawn in by perhaps a score of links.
One of the cave-tigers crouched, lashed its tail, and launched
forth on a terrific spring. The chain tautened, the massive links
sang to the strain, and the great beast gave a roar which shook the
walls. It had missed the prone man by a hand's breadth, and the
watchers behind the arrow-slits shrieked forth their delight. The
other tiger sprang also and missed, and again there were shouts of
pleasure, which mingled with the bellowing voices of the beasts.
The man lay motionless in his form. One more cowardly, or one more
brave, might have run from death, or faced it; but this poor
prisoner chose the middle course--he permitted death to come to
him, and had enough of doggedness to wait for it without stir.

The great cave-tigers were used, it appeared, to this disgusting
sport. There were no more wild springs, no more stubbings at
the end of the massive chains. They lay down on the pavement,
and presently began to purr, rolling on to their sides and
rubbing themselves luxuriously. The prisoner still lay
motionless in his form.

By slow degrees the monstrous brutes each drew to the end of
its chain and began to reach at the man with out-stretched forepaw.
The male could not touch him; the female could just reach him with
the far tip of a claw; and I saw a red scratch start up in the bare
skin of his side at every stroke. But still the prisoner would not
stir. It seemed to me that they must slack out more links of one
of the tigers' chains, or let the vile play linger into mere