Kaiso did not reply verbally; he put two fingers of his right hand into his mouth and the puma came in a series of bounds from the wood not far off, and, arching his back, rubbed himself against his master’s leg.
Then the beast marched up to Castizo and went through the same performance. He evidently knew our cacique. He smelt Jill’s legs and mine, but made no sign of friendliness.
“Delightful creature!” said Peter from his saddle. “Tame, I suppose? Looks like a huge cat. Pussy, pussy, pussy.”
“Tame,” said the king. “So, see what I do now.”
What he did do was rather startling, and at the same time proved the strength of this Herculean king.
“Gollie! Gollie! Gollie!” he cried, and Gollie followed him for some distance. Then, after stroking him, he seized the huge animal by the tail, and, turning on a pivot himself, he whirled the puma off the ground and round and round in a circle for fully a minute. When he let go the beast lay in a heap, dead to all appearance.
“Dead!” said Peter, dismounting. “Well, Kaiso, old chap, you needn’t have killed him. I’m so sorry I sha’n’t be able to have any fun with him. Poor Gollie!”
“Gollie not dead,” cried the king, laughing. “Gollie drunk. Dat is all. Byme-by he come sober, and den you hab fun plenty.”
Peter’s face fell.
“I’m sorry I spoke,” he said.