He said this unpretentiously, yet with a certain air of self-consciousness that must have brought the shadow of a doubting smile to my lips. Secundino saw this, and, without appearing to take notice of it, invited us outside the house, and showed us, at a certain distance from it, lying on the ground, ten tigers’ skulls, some of which bore traces of having been recently cleansed from skin and flesh.
‘You see,’ he added, ‘that I have some proofs of my tiger-killing!’
He told us that the tigers were the worst enemies of the cattle-farmer.
‘Other animals,’ he said, ‘will take just what they want, but the tiger is fierce, cruel, and kills for the sake of killing. If he should happen to get into an enclosure containing twenty or thirty young calves, he will kill them all, and take one away with him. We are at open and constant warfare with the tigers,’ he added, ‘and there is no truce between us.’
The llaneros usually kill tigers by spearing them. Referring to this, Secundino said that doubtless it was more dangerous than shooting the beast down at long range with a Winchester or a Remington rifle; ‘but,’ he went on to say, ‘powder and lead are expensive, cartridges are difficult to obtain, and when once exhausted your weapon is no better than a broomstick. The spear, however, is always ready, and never fails you. When I go out tiger-hunting I take my dogs, who follow the scent and guide me. I carry with me, besides the spears, a muzzle-loader, in case of emergency. The moment the dogs see the tiger they give cry; the beast seeks higher ground, and the fight with the dogs begins at once. The tiger is afraid even of a cur. The dogs that we have here are well trained, and though at times they are killed by the tiger, that seldom happens. I follow my dogs, keeping the animal well in sight, with my spear ready, and at the right moment dash forward and plunge it into his breast. If the blow is a good one, that ends it. Now and then it is necessary to fire the rifle into him; but this is a great pity, owing to the waste of lead and gunpowder.’
I am trying to repeat here word by word Secundino’s quiet statement. It sounds fanciful and exaggerated, but all those who have travelled over the plains of either Venezuela or Colombia will have heard that such is the commonest mode of tiger-killing amongst the llaneros. The tiger of these latitudes, however, is not the same as the tiger of India and other parts of Asia. It is smaller, but not less ferocious; it is spotted, and not striped. The spear used is very long, made of very hard wood, and has a most murderous appearance.
Secundino, after telling me of his short way with tigers, asked me to handle the weapon, and generously gave me some instructions as to the exact poise to be adopted for striking a blow, explaining to me how dangerous it might be were I to forget the rules which he could recommend from experience. To begin with, I could hardly lift the spear, and, then, there was practically no chance of my ever going to seek a tiger in his lair. Secundino, however, was profoundly in earnest, and, rather than disabuse him or hurt his feelings, I solemnly promised him that I would never kill tigers otherwise than in strict conformity with his advice, and that at the first opportunity I would practise throwing the spear and poising my body, so as to make sure.
Towards evening, as we were about leaving, when I was already seated in the canoe, whilst Leal was still ashore, I overheard these words passing between him and Secundino:
‘How far are you going, Friend Leal?’
‘Down to the Orinoco, to accompany these gentlemen.’