The Black Phantom

by Leo E. Miller

Warruk shot forward as if hurled from a catapult—not at the snake, but over its head, soaring above it a distance of fully two feet. He struck the side of the circular prison with a thud, rebounded instantly and landed on the neck of the great serpent before it could turn to follow his movements. The strategy had been successful. Writhe and shake itself as it would, the reptile could not dislodge the jaguar; nor was it possible to entwine him with the coils that groped and threshed about in vain for an effective hold, so closely did he cling. His claws were buried deep in the snake’s flesh while his teeth had closed like the jaws of a trap upon the slender neck just below the head.

Seconds passed slowly and minutes, seeming more like hours, dragged by while the death struggle continued. Warruk knew that to lose his foothold meant a speedy end for him; his claws dug deeper through the tough hide and his jaws drew together with the slow, irresistible force of a vise. At last it came, a dull, faint report. The great reptile’s head fell forward and the body lashed frantically; the spinal column had been severed and that marked the beginning of the end.

A half hour later the long black and yellow body had writhed its last and lay in a limp, knotted heap in one side of the prison. The cub was crouched as far away as possible from the mound of shimmering flesh and not for an instant did he remove his eyes from it. It was as if he half expected the snake to come back to life to renew the combat.

When night came Warruk resumed his restless pacing around the wall of his confining cell. The dead serpent did not trouble him now but he was careful not to tread upon it as he made his rounds.

The air in the hollow stub was anything but invigorating. It was heavy with the stench of decaying vegetation, and damp. It was not unnatural, therefore, that the cub should stop to sniff enquiringly at a thin stream of fresh air that gushed from somewhere near the floor and rushed up the chimney-like stub. That phenomenon was worth investigating for the air must enter through a passage communicating with the outer world; and the cub was not long in finding it.

An opening near the base of the stub, caused by the rending of the side when one of the giant trees crashed against it during the storm that razed the windfall through the jungle and piled up the wreckage to form the ridge, was located at last. It was through this that the snake had entered and the latter part of its body still clogged, at least partially, the passage.

Warruk dragged in the remainder of the snake and breathed deeply the fresh air and thrust first one forepaw and then the other into the crevice which was too narrow to permit the passage of his bulky head and body. His sharp claws caught in the edges of the break; the decayed wood crumbled away. Encouraged, he began to claw at the sides of the aperture, his excitement increasing until he was tearing at it frantically with no other thought than to escape from the trap into which he had fallen.

Daylight had come, however, before the opening had been increased to twice its original size and turning his head sideways the prisoner forced it through. His shoulders followed easily but when he attempted to draw the remainder of his body through, the hole seemed too narrow, holding him fast. After one or two tugs forward he tried to back out but going in that direction too was impossible. This indeed was an unusual and unenviable predicament, his forward half in the outer world which meant freedom, the other in the dark hollow of the stub where the serpent lay.

Just then a flock of wood-hewers, large, brown birds with strong, curved beaks, that hopped up and around the stems and branches like woodpeckers saw the young jaguar. They had been rummaging among the tangle of decaying wood, feasting on the superabundant grubs and larvæ. But no sooner did they notice the prisoner than all thought of food vanished. Like the jays, they never failed to take advantage of an opportunity to tantalize some other creature, especially if they found the latter under distressing circumstances.

They darted at Warruk, flitted back and forth, hopped nimbly along the branches and raised their voices in low churrs or louder agonized wails. The cub was nonplussed and stared at the birds, at first blankly, then angrily; but they grew constantly more impertinent, even making daring sallies at his face as if to peck out his eyes.