“What’s that?” stammered the lanky sailor, straightening up suddenly and turning back from the wheel.
“A tiger! Look out for him! Have you got your shotgun?”
As Jack uttered the words the beast turned, and without waiting further the young major fired two shots in rapid succession. One took the tiger in the hind quarter and the other just grazed his neck. The beast gave a wild leap and then whirled around to locate the unexpected attack.
Jack did not hesitate to retreat, and with all possible speed. Dashing up the sloping deck of the yacht, he gained the rail and there balanced himself against a boat davit. The tiger saw him and crept forward a few yards, crouching low as if meditating an attack.
Bang! It was the report of Small’s shotgun, and the charge hit the deck directly behind the tiger, some of the shot entering his tail and his hind feet. With a wild roar the beast whirled around, and in excitement slid along the deck.
As he slid along the deck Jack fired again, this time hitting the beast squarely in the side. Again came a roar and a savage snarl, the tiger baring his glistening teeth as if willing to chew his attackers to bits.
“Is he hit?” came from Small, hobbling forward.
“Yes; but he isn’t dead,” answered Jack. “Give him the other barrel.”
Again the shotgun blazed forth, and this time the charge entered the tiger’s neck and forequarter. He straightened up, and then, seeing Jack on the rail, made a savage leap in that direction.