of his fury and
ferocity. He looked the very personification of impotent viciousness;
the incarnation of devilish rage.

Urged by hunger the tiger fearlessly attacks his prey. The most
courageous are young tigers about seven or eight feet long. They
invariably give better sport than larger and older animals, being more
ready to charge, and altogether bolder and more defiant. Up to the age
of two years they have probably been with the mother, have never
encountered a reverse or defeat, and having become bold by impunity,
hesitate not to fly at any assailant whatever.

Like all the cat tribe, they are very cruel in disposition, often most
wantonly so. Having disabled his prey with the first onset, the tiger
plays with it as a cat does with a mouse, and, unless very sharp set
by hunger, he always indulges this love of torture. His attacks are by
no means due only to the cravings of his appetite. He often slays the
victims of a herd, in the wantonness of sport, merely to indulge his
murderous propensities. Even when he has had a good meal he will often
go on adding fresh victims, seemingly to gratify his sense of power,
and his love of slaughter. In teaching her cubs to kill for
themselves, the mother often displays great cruelty, frequently
killing at a time five or six cows from one herd. The young savages
are apt pupils, and 'try their prentice hand' on calves and weakly
members of the herd, killing from the mere love of murder.

Their cunning is as remarkable as their cruelty; what they lack in
speed they make up in consummate subtlety. They take advantage of the
direction of the wind, and of every irregularity of the ground. It is
amazing what slight cover will suffice to conceal their lurking forms
from the observation of the herd. During the day they generally
retreat to some cool and shady spot, deep in the recesses of the
jungle. Where the soft earth has been worn away with ragged hollows
and deep shady water-courses, where the tallest and most impenetrable
jungle conceals the winding and impervious paths, hidden in the gloom
and obscurity of the densely-matted grass, the lordly tiger crouches,
and blinks away the day. With the approach of night, however, his mood
undergoes a change. He hears the tinkle of the bells, borne by some of
the members of a retreating herd, that may have been feeding in close
proximity to his haunt all day long, and from which he has determined
to select a victim for his evening meal.