'He is eaten, sahib—killed and eaten; here comes the chief shikari with the sahib's own rifle—let him tell you.'
The shikari came flying down the road; he saw me and stopped, salaaming very low. 'Benefactor of the people!' he exclaimed. 'Protector of the poor! there has been a calamity, sahib; though you have come too late, I thank the gods that you are here—you can at least find and slay the accursed beast. Oh, miserable man that I am! My good master, Sahib Eccles! so young and so brave, and to die in the teeth of such a beast! oh, woe! woe!'
My heart stood still. Did I dream, or were these men really telling me the dreadful news that poor Charlie had been killed by a tiger?
I could scarcely speak, but I contrived to return to the verandah of the bungalow and to sink upon a chair. The shikari had followed me to the house, lamenting aloud.
'Stop!' I said, angrily. 'Now tell me plainly what has happened.'
The man began his tale. It was to have been a battue, he explained. Natives had come overnight, hearing that a sahib had arrived. They reported that a bad tiger had lived for a month in the jungle, close to the village. It had already killed and eaten three persons, besides destroying many bullocks belonging to the people. 'Unless the sahib comes to our assistance and kills the beast, we are lost—we and our children!' they told him. The Sahib Eccles had been delighted to hear of the tiger; it was just what he most wanted. 'Are there beaters to be had?' he asked. Fifty beaters were found in the surrounding district, but the reputation of the tiger was so bad that all the men and women were very nervous, and the sahib had laughed when told about them, and had said that he did not think they would be of much use if they were so frightened before they went into the jungle.
Nevertheless, the Sahib Eccles chose a tree for himself in a place where he could see well in many directions, and climbed up into the branches, and the beaters were placed at a distance around the place where the tiger was supposed to be lying. The beat began; that is, the natives shouted and banged their drums, and smote the trees with sticks, and produced horrible sounds from many different kinds of instruments; but, almost as soon as the noises began, the tiger suddenly uttered a single, terrible roar, and (said the shikari) nearly all the beaters immediately left for home. The beat ended, there were no more weird noises, and silence fell upon the jungle.
'I was with the Sahib Eccles in his tree,' said the shikari; 'and, first the sahib was very angry indeed, and then he laughed.
'"We shall do no good up here," he said, "for the tiger will not move unless he is driven." He had killed a bullock in the night, and was lazy with much food. "Dare you enter the jungle with me, shikari? You heard where the beast roared—there or thereabouts we know his position. Shall we make an attempt to move him, you and I?"
'There were one or two beaters close at hand. They had not dared to run away because they were in full view of the sahib and of me. "These men shall help us," said the sahib, "if they dare; they shall walk behind us and shout."