We were returning over the same ground now, with the beaters far behind, and every bush, and tuft, and patch of dry grass was carefully searched as hour after hour went by, and there was talk about a halt for lunch; but with such a monster known to be somewhere in the gorge no one felt disposed for anything but a refreshing cup of water, and downward we went again.
The feeling was fast growing upon us that the tiger had gone right on and out of the valley into the open country, when once more an elephant trumpeted, and told of our being near the object of our search.
Heat and fatigue were forgotten directly, the elephants were urged on by the mahouts, and cane-brake and reed-flat were searched, long grass was ridden through, and for a couple of hours more we were on the tiptoe of expectation, but found no tiger, till just as we were growing thoroughly dispirited, and felt that we must be driving it lower and lower, and helping it to escape, the monster bounded out from a cluster of loose rocks, faced us, and rolled over at a shot from the doctor’s rifle.
It sprang up again with a tremendous roar, and stood open-jawed, glaring at us as if considering which it should attack, when the rajah and Brace fired at the same time, and the monster rolled over again to struggle feebly, and then stretched itself out—dead.
“Never mind, Vincent,” said the doctor, clapping me on the shoulder; and then addressing the others with us: “Your turn next; and you have been in at the death.”
“Look! look!” I cried suddenly.
“What is it?”
“On that little elephant coming up the valley; isn’t it one of our men?”
Brace heard me, and took out the little glass slung from his shoulder.
“Yes,” he said. “It must be a message from the major. Good Heavens! I hope there is nothing wrong.”