"Say," remarked Buck over his shoulder, "I hope that 'Tiger, tiger, burning bright' isn't a man-eater. If he is, he'll have a soft snap with us, marching along this narrow path through thick cover."
"By George, he's coming!" cried Jim, in a tone of sudden alarm. "Let's bunch together, boys. If he doesn't get one of us, he may get a pony, and that wouldn't suit our game at all." The tiger had again raised his voice, but not in a roar so much as a fierce, grumbling snarl, and the sound was much nearer.
"Quick, quick!" cried Me Dain, from the head of the procession, and the whole party hurried forward. Suddenly the trees above their heads parted, and they saw the stars. The little band had reached an open space in the jungle, and they gathered in the midst of this space and closely surrounded the ponies.
"Put your hand on this little beast's shoulder," said Dent to Jack.
Jack laid his hand on the shoulder of the pony next to him, and found that it was trembling violently and running with sweat.
"I rather fancy it knows all about that noise, and what's making it," went on Dent. "They understand when trouble's in the wind as well as anybody."
"It must be in a terrible fright," said Jack. "Do you think the tiger will attack us, Jim?"
"It isn't at all unlikely," replied Dent. "What do you say, Buck?"
"If he doesn't want one of us, he wants a pony," replied Buck, "so it comes to just the same. We'll have to pipe him full o' lead, I shouldn't wonder."
"This is a bad place for tigers," broke in Me Dain. "Very bad place. Three Chinamen killed here four months ago."