One of the tigers sprang on the top of the cage and crouched there, trying to claw his way through the netting.
The others kept leaping against the side of the wagon ferociously.
Pomp had sprung for a rifle, and would have fired at the brutes.
But a strange incident prevented.
Suddenly the notes of a strange sounding horn sounded through the arches of the temple.
Instantly the three tigers leaped down and went skulking away across the court-yard.
Pomp and Frank were so completely amazed that they were for a moment speechless and inactive.
“Fo’ massy’s sake!” gasped Pomp, in utter amazement. “Whatebber am de meanin’ ob dat?”
“Why, it looks as if they were trained tigers,” replied Frank, a swift comprehension breaking over him. “Ah, I was right—there is their master.”
Both saw, standing upon an angle of the court-yard wall, an individual, the like of which neither had ever seen before.