“Why, sahib,” exclaimed the shikaree wallah, “see! She is not a wild tigress after all. There is a golden collar round her neck. She must have belonged to some great rajah, and made her escape from his palace.”
On a closer examination, Reginald discovered what the quick eye of the native had detected, a band of gold, partly hidden by the creature’s hair.
“There cannot be a doubt, then, that she is the very animal we saw last night,” observed Reginald. “She is my property now, at all events; and I feel very sure that she will follow no one else.”
By this time the shouts and cries of the beaters ceased to reach their ears, and Reginald knew that they must have gone in a different direction to that which he had followed. Several shots, however, the sound of which came from a distance, showed him that Burnett and his party had met with game; but as he found no real pleasure in tiger-shooting, he was anxious to get back to the bungalow, where they intended to stop till the next evening before resuming their journey. He wished, indeed, to astonish his friend, by exhibiting his prize, when Burnett was boasting, as he probably would, of the number of tigers he had killed. Leaving word with the elephant drivers that he had returned on foot, and bidding them say nothing about his captive, he hastened homeward, followed by his two astonished attendants.
“He is indeed a wonderful young man,” observed the shikaree wallah. “How courageously he walked up to the tiger; it makes my knees even now tremble to think of it. Wallah, he is a brave youth.”
As Reginald walked on, with his hand on the tigress’s head, he considered what name he should give the animal. “She has evidently become attached to me, and will follow me about like a dog,” he said to himself. “Very likely she may be of use, too, for I suspect that no robbers, nor even Thugs, would dare attack a man with a tigress as his protector. What shall I call her? Violet? Violet? No, certainly not. There is nothing in common, except I may say affection for me. Faithful? Yes, Faithful. That, I am sure, will prove the chief characteristic of the creature. Faithful shall be her name!”
By the time he had arrived at this decision he reached Major Sandford’s bungalow. The sitting-room was of large extent, ornamented with the skins of antelopes, bison, and stag horns of various kinds, and with native swords, bows, arrows, spears, and battle-axes; while the floor was covered with the hides of bears, leopards, tigers, and deer; and a number of tables, sofas, and chairs of all shapes were scattered about on it. Placing three of the chairs in a row, Reginald covered them with skins, so as to form a screen; and calling to Faithful, he bade her lie down behind them. He threw himself on a sofa in front to await the arrival of his friends. Before long he caught sight of Burnett’s elephant approaching.
“How comes it, you lazy fellow, that you return home without a single skin to show?” asked Captain Burnett, as he entered.
“Pardon me, but I have not returned without a skin,” said Reginald. “Here, Faithful, show yourself.”
As he spoke the tigress raised her head above the screen with a menacing expression in her countenance which made Burnett start back and draw one of his pistols.