elt, or that the tiger had a
cold in its head. He thought for one moment of bursting up with a yell
that would scare the monster out of his seven senses--if he had seven--
but dismissed the thought as cowardly, for it would be sacrificing
success to safety. He knew not what to do, and the cold perspiration
consequent upon indecision at a supreme moment broke out all over him.
Suddenly he thought of the revolver!

Like lightning he seized it, pointed it straight up and fired. The
bullet--a large army revolver one--entered the throat of the animal,
pierced the root of the tongue, crashed through the palate obliquely,
and entered the brain. The tiger threw one indescribable somersault and
fell--fell so promptly that it blocked the mouth of the pit, all the
covering earth of which had been blown away by the shot, and Verkimier
could feel the hairy side of the creature, and hear the beating of its
heart as it gasped its life away. But in his cramped position he could
not push it aside. Well aware of the tenacity of life in tigers, he
thought that if the creature revived it would certainly grasp him even
in its dying agonies, for the weight of its body and its struggles were
already crushing in the upper part of the hole.

To put an end to its sufferings and his own danger, he pointed the
revolver at its side and again fired. The crash in the confined hole
was tremendous--so awful that the professor thought the weapon must have
burst. The struggles of the tiger became more violent than ever, and
its weight more oppressive as the earth crumbled away. Again the cold
perspiration broke out all over the man, and he became unconscious.

It must not be supposed that the professor's friends were unwatchful.
Although they had promised not to disturb him in his operations, they
had held themselves in readiness with rifle, revolver, and spear, and
the instant the first shot was heard, they ran down to the scene of
action. Before reaching it the second shot quickened their pace as they
ran down to the pond--a number of natives yelling and waving torches at
their heels.

"Here he is," cried Moses, who was first on the scene, "dead as mutton!"

"What! the professor?" cried Nigel in alarm.

"No; de tiger."

"Where's Verkimier?" asked the hermit as he came up.

"I dun know, massa," said Moses, looking round him vacantly.

"Search well, men, and be quick, he may have been injured," cried Van
der Kemp, seizing a torch and