Part 20 (1/2)
”By George, you shot him dead enough, Miss Benson!” he exclaimed.
She stared down at the animal.
”Yes; but it's well to be careful. I've seen a tiger look as dead as that and yet spring up and maul a man who approached it incautiously,”
she said.
She raised her rifle and covered the prostrate animal.
”Throw something at it,” she continued.
Wargrave took out a couple of heavy, copper-cased cartridges and flung them one by one at the tiger's head, striking it on the jaw and in the eye. The animal did not move.
”Seems dead enough,” said the girl, lowering her rifle. ”Here come the beaters.”
The other elephants had now burst out in line through the scrub. Their _mahouts_ shouted enquiries to Gul Dad and when they heard of the tiger's death cheered gleefully, for it meant _backsheesh_ to them.
Badshah was seen to be searching for a way down into the nullah and in a few minutes brought his pa.s.sengers up alongside Miss Benson and the subaltern. Her father and Dermot congratulated the girl warmly; and the latter, having made Badshah kick the tiger to make certain that it was dead, dismounted and examined it.
”Here's your shot, Wargrave,” he said, pointing to a hole in the belly.
”A bit too low, but it made a nasty wound that would have killed the beast eventually.”
”I'm so ashamed of missing it with my second barrel, sir,” said the subaltern. ”But for Miss Benson I'd have been a gone c.o.o.n.”
”Yes, it certainly looked exciting enough from our side of the _nullah_,” said the Colonel, smiling; ”so what must it have been like from where you were? Well, anyhow it's your tiger.”
”Oh, nonsense, sir; it's Miss Benson's. I ought to be kicked for being such a m.u.f.f.”
”Jungle law, Mr. Wargrave,” said the girl, laughing ”You hit it first, so it's your beast.”
”You needn't be ashamed of missing it,” added the Colonel. ”A charging tiger coming full speed at you is not an easy mark. No; the skin is yours; and Muriel has so many that she can spare it.”
”Well, Miss Benson, I accept it as a gift from you; but I won't acknowledge that I have earned it,” said the subaltern.
”Now, we'd better pad it and see about getting back,” said Dermot, looking at his watch.
The other elephants had now found their way up the bank and joined Badshah and his companion. When their _mahouts_ heard from Gul Dad the story of the tiger's death they exclaimed in amazement and admiration:
”_Ahre, Chai_! (Oh, brother!) Truly the missie-_baba_ is a wonder. She will be the death of many tigers, indeed,” they said.
Then each in turn brought his elephant up to the prostrate animal and made her smell and strike it with her trunk in order to inspire her with contempt for tigers. Colonel Dermot measured it with a tape and found it to be nine feet six inches from nose to tip of tail. It was a young, fully-grown male in splendid condition. Then came the troublesome business of ”padding” it, that is, hoisting it on to the pad of one of the elephants to bring it back to the bungalow to be skinned. It was not an easy matter. For the tiger weighed nearly three hundred and fifty pounds; and to raise the limp carcase, which sagged like a feather bed at every spot where there was not a man to support it, was a difficult task. But it was achieved at last; and with the tiger roped firmly on a pad the elephants started back in single file.
As they went over the plain in the burning sun Wargrave looked back to where the striped body was borne along with stiff, dangling legs.
”By Jove, it's been great, Miss Benson,” he exclaimed. ”Some people say tiger shooting's not exciting. They ought to have been with us to-day. I am lucky to have got a bison already and now to have seen this. With luck I'll be having a shot at an elephant next.”
The girl replied in a serious tone:
”Don't say that to Colonel Dermot. Elephants are his especial friends.
Besides, you are only allowed to shoot rogues; and since he's been here there have been none in these jungles which formerly swarmed with them.