hates the whites, and would come out from under
the trees in their canoes and attack us if they knowed we were here. I
told the skipper so, but he's like them 'talians: knows everything
himself, so that he as good as told me to mind my own business, and so I
did. But this side of the river's all savage and wild, my lad. The
people had rough hard times with the old Spaniards, so that every white
man's a Spaniard to them, and if they get a chance it's spear or club."

Rob looked rather nervously along the interlacing trees hung with the
loveliest of vine and creeper, and then jerked his line.

"Ah, it's all right enough, sir, if you keep your eyes open. I can't,
you see: only one."

"How did you lose your eye, Shaddy?"

"Tiger," said the man shortly.

"There are no tigers here," said Rob. "They are in India."

"I know that. Striped ones they are, and bigger than these here. I've
known 'em swim off from Johore across to Singapore--though they're big
cats--and then lie in wait for the poor Chinese coolie chaps and carry
'em off. They call these big spotted chaps tigers, though, out here;
but they're jaggers: that's what they are. Call 'em painters up in
Texas and Arizona and them parts north. Jaggered my eye out anyhow."

"How was it?"

"I was shooting, and after lying in wait for one of the beggars for
nights, I saw my gentleman--coming after a calf he was--and I shot him.
`Dead!' I says, for he just gave one snarly cry, turned over on his
back, clawed about a bit, and then lay down on his side, and I went up,
knife in hand, meaning to have his spotted skin."

Shaddy stopped and laid his hand over the scar and empty eye cavity, as
if they throbbed still.

"Well?" cried Rob eagerly.

"No; it wasn't well, my lad. All the worst's coming. He wasn't dead a
bit, and before I knew where I was, he sent my rifle flying, and he had
me. It was one leap and a wipe down the face with his right paw, and
then his jaws were fixed in my right shoulder, and down I went on my
back. If I hadn't twisted a bit he'd have torn me with his hind claws
same as a cat does a great rat, and then I shouldn't have been here to
be your guide. As it was, he kicked and tore up the earth, and then he
left go of my shoulder and turned over on his side, and died in real
earnest."

"The bullet had taken effect?"

"Nay, my lad; it was my knife. I thought it was my turn again, and, as
I had it in my hand, I felt for his heart, and