Robert Kingsford’s gratification and delight in the fact that his journey had, after all, turned out to be the means of rescuing his friend, the lover of his sister, may be imagined. Nor were the others less pleased; only the good doctor’s satisfaction was clouded by his inability to get out into the wonderful valley to obtain any of the botanical treasures that lay so near at hand. But his chagrin disappeared when Templemore, as some consolation, showed him the purse of gems that had been sent to him.
“We’ll give up orchid-collecting after this, lad!” he exclaimed to his son. “No need to wear out my old bones any longer in toilsome wanderings, when we’ve got enough to live on comfortably without.”
Presently, ‘Puss’ came back with a wild pig, and great was the rejoicing over the meal that followed.
Then all, save Templemore—who could only look on from the window—went out to examine the reptile monster they had killed and to gaze in astonishment at its huge proportions. The Indians had already begun to skin it, but had not finished the operation when the time came for making their preparations to pass the night.
These were complete—the four white men sleeping in the cavern and the Indians bivouacking outside—when strange cries were heard echoing through the forest. Instantly there was a great stir among the Indians. With one accord they started up, exclaiming, “The tigers! The tigers are coming!” Forgetting their fear of the ‘demons’ cavern,’ they cried out piteously for the ladder to be put out for them; and no sooner was this done than they scrambled up it with all speed into the cave, and pulled it in after them.
In reply to the amazed inquiries of the others, Matava explained that they had recognised the distant trumpetings of ‘Warracaba tigers,’ those fierce animals that nothing—not even fires—can stay or keep at bay. Soon, in fact, the animals could be heard on all sides around the cavern, though but little could be seen of them in the darkness. Their growls and roars and squeals were answered by hoarse roars of defiance from the puma that were deafening as they reverberated through the galleries of the cavern. Outside, the ‘tigers’ made frantic efforts to leap up and get in at the window, while those within had much ado to keep the puma from leaping out amongst them. They also fired a few shots at them, but in the darkness—for the fires had burned low—they were fired at random.
“Why,” said the doctor, “I should think there must be a hundred of them! What an awful place this forest must be! I know that wolves hunt in packs, but I never before heard of ‘tigers’ doing so. Wolves can’t climb trees as these can. It’s awful, perfectly awful!” he added, the while he listened to the diabolical noises going on outside. It was, indeed, as a former traveller has expressed it, ‘like a withering scourge sweeping through the forest.’[11]
It was hours before the din died down; and then, just when the tired travellers were falling asleep, the most appalling, human-like cries broke forth, sounding first quite close at hand, and then dying away in a long-drawn wail or shriek.
Again the new-comers started up in alarm; but Templemore, smiling feebly, bade them take no notice.