“I intended no harm and no disrespect,” rejoined Siddha. “But what is that?” cried he, suddenly pointing with his spear towards the tall grass on the mountain side, which was waving gently, though unstirred by the wind.
Before his calmer companion could restrain him, the impatient hunter had turned his horse into the long grass, and was hurrying towards the spot where the movement had been seen. But before either Kulluka or the servants could hasten after him, they saw him draw rein and remain motionless, gazing before him.
All movement in the grass had ceased, not one blade stirred, and not a sound was to be heard. Then again the grass moved and bent, but much farther off, betraying the presence of a large glossy tiger bounding away.
Siddha put spurs to his horse, and the next moment lay full length on the ground. A hole, thickly covered with vegetation, had thrown horse and rider. But both instantly recovered their footing.
“It is nothing, Vatsa,”[7] he said to his servant, who had flung himself from his pony and hurried to his master. “I have fallen softly enough; nor, it is to be hoped, has any harm come to my horse.”
On examination they found that the noble grey was as uninjured as his headlong rider; but no sign of the tiger was any longer visible.
There was nothing left to be done but to spring into the saddle and continue the interrupted journey.
Siddha rode silently by the side of his guru, not a little ashamed of his foolish adventure, but the latter broke the silence by saying, “That was but a childish trick, dear lad.”
“Yes,” replied Siddha, in a shamefaced tone, “I must have indeed appeared ridiculous, rolling over in such a way.”
“But,” continued Kulluka, “that you could not help.”