After the first moment of relief, and whilst I was still stretching and rubbing my limbs, a serious problem presented itself for solution.
On entering the forest the tiger had gone the very way I had to go myself. What had I better do? It was impossible for me to retrace my steps, for my previous tiredness had increased to a singular degree after my fright. It was equally impossible for me to think of stopping where I was. And to penetrate into the forest following in the creature's wake, would it not be like going to seek the ghastly end from which I had just so narrowly escaped, thanks perhaps to the tiger's defective sense of smell?
And yet, after having carefully pondered which course to take I was obliged to make my decision in favour of the one that seemed the most insensate of the three.
My cabin was not very far off. I should only have to quicken my pace, by making a supreme effort, in order to arrive before it got dark.
And the tiger? But might I not have met a dozen of them on my road from Tapah? And besides, who could say that the one I had seen was really gone towards my home? It would indeed have proved a curious predilection, especially after the affront just received!
So armed with these subtle reasonings, with which I sought to persuade myself, I left the tragical spot where, according to the brief agony of my feelings and the likelihood of procedure, I had been torn to pieces and eaten by a wild beast, and I continued my homeward journey.
How the faintest sound startled me! A falling leaf; a blade of grass moved by an insect; a snake or a lizard gliding out of my path; the squeal of a monkey; the fluttering of a bird's wings as it flew up to its perch, all subjected me to spasmodic thrills.
I always had in my sight that dreadful beast with gaping mouth, and cruelly glittering eyes. The horrible vision gave new vigour to my body, extraordinary suppleness to my legs and—wings to my feet.
Kind reader, who knows how many times in your sitting-room or perhaps in somebody else's even dearer to you—honi soit qui mal y pense!—you have found yourself in front of a tiger, leopard or panther whose brindled and glossy skin you have admired; who knows how many times you have absently played with its head, still ferocious-looking, in spite of its glass eyes and red cloth tongue; who knows how often you have toyed with its fangs and claws whilst you were persuing a pleasant thought or inebriating your spirit with the soft tones of a certain voice!
Well, have you ever tried to imagine what emotions you would experience if quite unexpectedly those glassy eyes should become animated; if that ugly mouth should open wider; if those white fangs should gleam with life; if those splendid claws should be stretched out in the act of lacerating you: if that magnificent skin should once more be incorporated and rise up to face you?