and then, leaning over, took her and swung her into the saddle in
front of him. The man took up a large box that was lying in the
road and hoisted it onto his shoulders, and then, at a foot's pace,
they proceeded on their way--Bathurst keeping a close watch on
the jungle at the side on which the tiger had entered it.

"How came you to travel along this road alone?" he asked the man.
"The natives only venture through in large parties, because of this
tiger."

"I am a stranger," the man answered; "I heard at the village where
we slept last night that there was a tiger in this jungle, but
I thought we should be through it before nightfall, and therefore
there was no danger. If one heeded all they say about tigers one
would never travel at all. I am a juggler, and we are on our way
down the country through Cawnpore and Allahabad. Had it not been
for the valor of my lord sahib, we should never have got there; for
had I lost my Rabda, the light of my heart, I should have gone no
further, but should have waited for the tiger to take me also."

"There was no particular valor about it," Bathurst said shortly.
"I saw the beast with its foot on your daughter, and dismounted to
beat it off just as if it had been a dog, without thinking whether
there was any danger in it or not. Men do it with savage beasts
in menageries every day. They are cowardly brutes after all, and
can't stand the lash. He was taken altogether by surprise, too."

"My lord has saved my daughter's life, and mine is at his service
henceforth," the man said. "The mouse is a small beast, but he may
warn the lion. The white sahibs are brave and strong. Would one of