Holding his gun advanced before him, in readiness to fire instantly,
Charlie entered the jungle at the point where the tiger had retreated
into it. Drops of blood spotted the grass, and the bent and twisted
brushwood showed the path that the tiger had taken. Charlie moved as
noiselessly as possible. The path led straight forward, towards the
rocks behind, but it was not until within four or five yards of this
that any sign of the tiger could be seen.
Then the bushes were burst asunder, and the great yellow body hurled
itself forward upon Charlie. The attack was so sudden and
instantaneous that the latter had not even time to raise his rifle to
his shoulder. Almost instinctively, however, he discharged both of the
barrels; but was, at the same moment, hurled to the ground, where he
lay crushed down by the weight of the tiger, whose hot breath he could
feel on his face. He closed his eyes, only to open them again at the
sound of a heavy blow, while a deluge of hot blood flowed over him. He
heard Hossein's voice, and then became insensible. When he recovered,
he found himself lying with his head supported by Hossein, outside the
jungle.
"Is he dead?" he asked faintly.
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