ldn't take five minutes. I tried it with my
foot--very gingerly. Yes, it was too strong--much too strong. I put more
weight into that foot--and bang, smash, crash--bump! There I was at the
bottom of the pit, with half the wattling on top of me.

The depth of that hole was full twenty-five feet; the sides were as
smooth as bottle-glass; dusk was turning into dark. But these things
weren't the worst of it. I'd told Ivy that I'd do one thing--and I'd
gone and done another. I'd lied to her and I'd put her in for a time of
anxiety, and then fright, that might kill her.

VIII

I wasted what little daylight was left trying to climb out, using
nothing but hands and feet. And then I sat down and cursed myself for a
triple-plated, copper-riveted, patent-applied-for fool. Nothing would
have been easier, given light, than to take the wattling that had fallen
into the pit with me to pieces, build a pole--sort of a split-bamboo
fishing-rod on a big scale--shin up and go home. But to turn that trick
in the dark wasn't any fun. I did it though--twice. I made the first
pole too light and it smashed when I was half-way up. A splinter jabbed
into my thigh and drew blood. That complicated matters. The smell of the
blood went out of the pit and travelled around the island like a
sandwich man saying: "Fine supply of fresh meat about to come out of
Right Bower's pet pitfall; second on the left."

When I'd shinned to the top of the second pole I built and crawled over
the rim of the pit--there was a tiger sitting, waiting, very patient. I
could just make him out in the starlight. He was mighty lean and looked
like a hungry gutter-cat on a big scale. Some people are afraid to be
alone in the dark. I'm not. Well, I just knelt there--I'd risen to my
knees--and stared at him. And then I began to take in a long breath--I
swelled and swelled with it. It's a wonder I didn't use up all the air
on the island and create a vacuum--in which case the tiger would have
blown up. I remember wondering what that big breath was going to do when
it came out. I didn't know. I had no plan. I looked at the tiger and he
looked at me and whined--like a spoiled spaniel asking for sugar. That
was too much. I thought of Ivy, maybe needing me as she'd never needed
any one before--and I looked at that stinking cat that meant to keep me
from her. I made one jump at him--'stead of him at me--and at the same
time I let out the big breath I'd drawn in a screech that very