murderously savage claws, which were sharp and curved like a Damascus
sword. [Footnote: Damascus sword: A Damascus blade was famed for its
excellence.]

The Frenchman kept one hand on his poniard, and thought to watch his
chance to plunge it into the belly of the too confiding animal; but he
was fearful lest he might be strangled in her last convulsive struggles;
beside this, he felt in his heart a sort of remorse which bade him
respect this hitherto inoffensive creature that had done him no hurt. He
seemed to have found a friend in the boundless desert, and,
half-unconsciously, his mind reverted to his old sweetheart whom he had,
in derision, nicknamed "Mignonne."

This recollection of his youthful days suggested the idea of making the
panther answer to this name, now that he began to admire with less fear
her graceful swiftness, agility, and softness. Toward the close of the
day he had so familiarized himself with his perilous position that he
was half in love with his dangerous situation and its painfulness. At
last his companion had grown so far tamed that she had caught the habit
of looking up at him whenever he called in a falsetto voice, "Mignonne."

From that time the desert was inhabited for him. It contained a being to
whom he could talk and whose ferocity was now lulled into gentleness,
although he could not explain to himself this strange friendship.
Anxious as he was to keep awake and on guard, as it were, he gradually
succumbed to his excessive fatigue of body and mind; he threw himself on
the floor of the cave and slept soundly.

On awakening Mignonne was absent; he climbed the hillock and afar off
saw her returning in the long bounds characteristic of those animals who