"Ha, sahib! Many."

"Man-eaters, by any chance?"

Mahommed Gunga and the other man exchanged quick glances, but
Cunningham did not look up. He did not see the quick-flashed whites as
their eyes met and looked down again.

"There is one, sahib--so say the kansamah and the head man--a
full-grown tiger, in his prime."

"I will shoot him." Four words, said quietly--not "Do you think," or
"I would like to," or "Perhaps." They were perfectly definite and
without a trace of excitement; yet this man had never seen a tiger.

"Very good, sahib." That, too, was spoken in a level voice, but
Mahommed Gunga's eyes and the other man's met once again above his
head.

"We will stay here four days; by the third day there will be time
enough to have brought an elephant and--"

"I will go on foot," said Cunningham, quite quietly. "Tomorrow, at
dawn, risaldar-sahib. Will you be good enough to make arrangements?
All we need to know is where he is and how to get there--will you
attend to that?"

"Ha, sahib."

"Thanks. I wonder if my supper's ready."