13 Tiger Adventure (3 page)

‘Don’t forget,’ Hal said, ‘you’ve done a good deal of the murdering. Think of all those animals you’ve killed just for fun.’

‘It’s all your fault,’ Vic shouted. ‘If you hadn’t hired me I’d be all right.’

This was a ridiculous thing to say and Vic knew it, Hal did not bother to answer.

‘Now.’ He took firm hold of a quill and pulled it out. A tiger couldn’t have roared louder than Vic did.

Every quill brought another roar. The hook on each, quill not only tore Vic’s legs but tore his trousers as well. When they were all out, Hal rolled up the trouser-legs, tore his own shirt in two, and bandaged each leg in an effort to stop the bleeding.

‘As soon as we get to the cabin I’ll dose these wounds with disinfectant and I think they will soon heal. Get up, and let’s move along.’

But Vic was not movable. He wouldn’t even try. He was in great pain and, of course, he blamed it all on Hal.

‘I’ll get the truck,’ Roger said.

There’s an easier way,’ said Hal. ‘Put him on the sambar’s back.’

The sambar stood patiently while they laid Vic across the animal’s back, his head hanging down on one side and his feet on the other. So they completed their trip to the cabin. Vic was carried inside and the little mouse-deer followed. Going out again, Hal put both of the larger deer into the same cage, knowing they would be happier if kept together.

Then Vic’s legs were dosed with antiseptic and he was left to rest until he was able to walk to his own cabin. Hal and Roger went out to feed the caged animals.

Vic noticed that Tiny Tim, which Roger had removed from his pocket, was roaming around inside the cabin. A five-hundred dollar animal - and his for the taking. He picked up the little beast and put it in his own pocket. Somehow he felt better right away. With something worth five hundred dollars in his pocket, his legs didn’t hurt so badly after all.

He slipped out of the Hunts’ cabin and walked through the woods to his own. His friends, Jim and Harry, were both there. He showed them his treasure. They had never seen anything like it in their lives. It didn’t look real - it had the perfect graceful shape of a deer and yet it was the size of a kitten.

That’s what makes it special,’ Vic said. ‘It’s worth five hundred dollars. I’ll give a hundred to each of you and keep three hundred. We can have a lot of fun on five hundred dollars.’

‘Fun in jail,’ Harry said. That’s where we’ll all wind up. And it won’t be just for a night. It will put us away for months.’

There was a rap on the door and Hal came in. ‘Did you see - oh, there it is. How did it ever get here?’

‘Well,’ began Vic, thinking hard what to say, ‘you weren’t in your cabin. I was afraid it might slip out and get lost. So I brought it here - just until you were ready to take care of it’

‘Mighty good of you.’ said Hal. He guessed the truth but decided not to say anything about it. Nervous Nellie had suffered enough for one day. ‘How are your legs?’ he asked.

They sting as if they were on fire. Must be that antiseptic you put on them.’

Hal thought, ‘You can always trust this guy to say something nasty.’

‘Well anyhow,’ he said aloud, ‘thanks for taking care of Tiny Tim,’ He took up the little animal and walked off.

The great sambar deer captured by the boys was as good as a horse.

He was half tame, having been used in the Sherpa villages on the mountain slopes much as the reindeer is used in Lapland.

The sambar had not been bothered by Vic’s weight on its back. So Hal wondered if he could ride it.

He took the animal out of the cage. He had no saddle. He had no bridle. He climbed up on the broad back very close to the neck. He gave the sambar a little punch with his heels and was pleased when the sambar began to walk.

But how could Hal make it turn right or left? He could just reach the head. He found that by pressing the head to one side or the other, he could make his mount turn right or left. He practised for some days and became an expert sambar rider. A sort of affection grew up between the man and beast.

One day the headman of a large village just outside the Gir Forest stopped Hal on his way through the woods.

Tears ran down the old man’s face.

‘My wife and my daughter have just been killed by a leopard. This devil has killed five hundred and twenty-five of our people during the past few years.

‘We have been told that you and your friends are good hunters. Would you come and kill this beast?’

‘We’ll come.’ said Hal. ‘We want the leopard - alive, not dead.’

‘You’ll never take it alive.’

‘Well,’ Hal said, ‘we’ll see about that. We’ll be with you in about an hour.’

In less than an hour Hal and Roger and Vic were on their way to Gir Village.

Hal rode his sambar. He called him Sam for short. He knew that Sam hated the big cats, because the big cats hated Sam and all other sambars. The tiger and the leopard found the meat of the sambar very delicious food.

But sometimes the sambar beat the cat. One kick from his powerful heels could knock out any animal he didn’t happen to like.

Hal rode Sam. Roger drove a Land-Rover and took Vic, who had no liking for this adventure. He would rather have stayed home and nursed his punctures.

Arriving at the village, they found it deserted, except for one person - the headman - also a cow and some goats.

‘Where are all the people?’ Hal asked.

‘Inside their houses. They are afraid to come out. Come quickly, we will go to my house.’

In the house they found the headman’s son - but it seemed a cold forlorn place with no wife and no daughter. They had already been buried.

There was a strange man with a knife carving a piece of wood to make it look like a leopard.

‘He just came,’ said the boy. ‘Says he can help us.’

The man turned and bowed. ‘I am a magician,’ he said. 1 can take the ‘vil spirit out of your leopard. When I get the bad out of him, then he will not do you any more harm.’

Hal asked, ‘How can you get the bad out of a leopard?’

‘It is easy when you know how.’ said the stranger. ‘I make this piece of wood look like a leopard. Then I will take it to Katmandu and put it into the river that flows into the Ganges. That is holy water and I will make a prayer that the holy water will take all of the sin out of the leopard. The Ganges will carry the evil spirit far out to sea where it can do no more harm to human beings. And it will only cost you one thousand rupees.’

‘One thousand rupees!’ exclaimed the headman. 1 have no such money.’ He turned towards Hal. ‘How much do you charge?’

Hal laughed. ‘Nothing at all. All I want is your leopard. I want to take it back to my country where I will teach it good manners. There is no evil spirit in your leopard. The beast just wants something to eat. If we feed it well, it won’t go chasing after human beings.’

‘I don’t believe you can do it,’ said the headman. ‘But since you charge nothing I’ll give you the first chance and if you fail I will try to dig up a thousand rupees for this man of magic’

‘Listen!’ said the boy. ‘He’s scratching every door. No wonder everybody is scared. I hope this door is locked.’

‘It is locked.’ said the headman. ‘He’s scratching at it now but he can’t get in. We are safe.’

The leopard stopped scratching and broke into a series of coughs that sounded like laughter. ‘Har-har-har.’

‘He’s laughing at us,’ the boy said. He was badly frightened.

‘Never mind,’ said his father. ‘He can’t get in.’

‘Har-har-har!’ laughed the leopard. He was not scratching the door now. There was a new sound. The leopard was climbing the outside wall of the house, which was made of sticks and mud. He reached the roof. What would he do now? There was no way to lock a roof. There was a sound of scratching right over their heads. The roof was not solid. It was made of thatch - sticks and twigs and brush.

The boy was white with fear. Vic hid in a corner. Even the magician was terrified. He picked up the wood he had been carving and prepared to swat the beast if it fell into the room.

Now they could see daylight through the roof. The hole grew larger. Hal leaped to the door and opened it. Down fell the leopard followed by a shower of sticks and brush from the roof.

The leopard stood in the middle of the room glaring around him and coughing his ‘Har-har-har.’

The magician swung the wooden leopard like a rounders bat but instead of striking the leopard he gave Hal a resounding thump on the jaw.

Things were getting too hot for the leopard. He took advantage of the escape that Hal had provided for him. But he wouldn’t go without his supper. He seized the boy and leaped out through the door. A hundred feet away he put down the young fellow so he could laugh again - ‘Har-har-har’.

But the joke was on the leopard. Hal came running with the magician’s dummy and Roger with a big stick that had fallen from the roof. They attacked the leopard who was not laughing now, but roaring so loudly that doors opened all down the street as people craned their necks to see what was happening. The leopard made off into the woods. The boy limped back into the house, hurt, but not too badly.

Vic came out of his hiding-place in the corner. He stuck out his chest.

‘Boy, oh boy, did we scare that leopard. We gave him what was coming to him.’

Of course he had done nothing. ‘I’ll bet he won’t come back.’ Vic strutted around like a peacock, enjoying the admiring glances he got from people in the doorways. He was the hero of the hour.

‘I’m not afraid of anything that breathes.’

‘Well, save your own breath,’ Hal said. ‘Keep your strength for what will happen when he comes back.’

‘He’ll never come back,’ Vic replied.

And at that very moment the leopard was coming back. This time the animal selected the fellow with the stuck-out chest as his supper. He ran straight for Vic, and Vic ran straight for a tree. He clambered up the tree about twelve feet high and stopped. He ought to be safe here. He didn’t know that the leopard is one of the finest tree-climbers in the world.

‘Har-har-har,’ coughed the leopard. He began to climb the tree. Vic went up too - all the way to twenty feet. The leopard almost caught up with him. Higher, higher, Vic clambered. Now he had reached the top of the tree. The leopard stopped just below him. The animal knew a lot about trees. He was in the habit of carrying any animal he decided to eat up to the highest branches of the trees in order to keep it away from any other hungry beasts. He was so powerful that he could drag up anything even if it were twice his own weight.

But he had had plenty of experience with branches that would break if he loaded them down with his two hundred pounds. So he didn’t dare go any farther.

But he would just wait where he was. Sooner or later his supper would come down to him. It was a long wait for both leopard and man. Hal and Roger pelted the animal with stones, hoping it would become annoyed and climb down. No luck. The stones bounced off the strong hide of the animal and fell back down. These falling stones bothered Hal and Roger more than they did the leopard. Several times their heads were soundly whacked and the creature high in the tree laughed.

It was beginning to get dark. Vic’s chest did not stick out so far now. He was beginning to whine. As usual, he blamed his trouble on the two brothers. Would he have to stay up here all night? The leopard didn’t mind - most of his hunting was done at night. Sooner or later this tasty bit was going to fall straight into his mouth.

Roger had a bright idea. The net. I’ll get the net.’ He ran to the Land-Rover and brought back the net.

‘Good idea,’ Hal said. ‘With the help of the headman they spread the net some five feet above the ground.

Hal showed it to Vic. ‘Jump.’

But Vic would not jump. ‘Don’t kid me. I’d break my neck.’

‘Jump. We’ll catch you. Or do you want to stay there till morning?’ It was getting darker. Soon Vic would not be able to see the net. He finally summoned up what little courage he had and jumped. He hit the net, and bounced up so far that he thought he was going back up to the top of the tree. Then he fell again into the net. It was comfortable there - as good as a bed.

But the leopard was coming down the tree.

Hal had disappeared. He came back with Sam just as the leopard touched the ground. Sam at once did what sambars always do when bothered by any member of the cat tribe. He kicked the leopard with one powerful heel and the beast doubled up in pain. Sam delivered his second blow with the other heel and the big cat tumbled over and lay as if dead.

‘Quick,’ Hal said. ‘Wrap him up in the net and we’ll stuff him into the back of the Land-Rover.’

Thanks for killing him,’ said the headman.

‘He’s not dead,’ said Hal. ‘He’ll be as lively as ever after we get him into his cage.’

The news that the leopard had been captured passed rapidly from house to house and people swarmed out to thank the boys for what they had done. Vic especially enjoyed all the congratulations.

‘It was nothing,’ he said, ‘nothing at all. Any time you want us to help you just let us know.’

Hal cut short his speech. ‘No more time for talk. We’ve got to get this cat into a cage before he wakes up.’

The leopard was still asleep when they got home. The net was removed and the big body was pushed into a cage. When the cat woke up it went crazy trying to break the bars of the cage but it was no use.

The cat settled down over the meat that had been thrown to him. Cold meat! He preferred live meat, warm and juicy. His luck had changed. No longer could he kill, and kill, and laugh his sarcastic ‘Har-har-har’.

When morning came, Hal and Roger popped out before breakfast to see their new cat.

The leopard and the tiger in the next cage were talking together in low grunts. It was not a love grunt. These two animals do not care for each other.

The tiger had reason to be proud of his fine black stripes on yellow hide. But the leopard was covered with flowers -at least they looked like flowers. Naturalists called them rosettes, meaning that they were as lovely as roses. Behind them was a soft light-brown skin’