He had peered from the front and rear windows without catching sight of the tiger. The reason was evident: the animal was so near the house that he could not be observed without raising the sash and thrusting out the head. It was well the lad was too prudent to do that.

Afraid that their voices might rouse his anger, the mother stepped to the foot of the stairs and called to her boy,--

"Keep quiet, Tom! He is somewhere near, but we can't see him any more than you. If we remain still, perhaps he will go away."

Jim Travers, having fanned the pieces of wood on the hearth into a crackling blaze, stepped softly to the window against which the tiger had flung himself, and bent his head in close attention.

"Mercy!" exclaimed Aunt Cynthia in an undertone, "come away; if he jumps through, he will land on top of your head."

"_Sh!_" whispered the boy, holding up one hand as a warning for them to keep silent; "_I hear him!_"

So he did. The tiger was trotting back and forth and round the building, evidently seeking some mode of entrance. Clearly he was resolved to punish the inmates for firing at him.

All stood still and listened. In the profound stillness the women caught the faint sound made by the velvety feet of the brute in trotting to and fro. He was traced as he made a complete circuit of the house, and then paused at the window where he had attempted to leap through.

The low, threatening growl which escaped him sent a shiver through all.

Neither of the women dared to stir or speak. They expected every moment that his effort would be repeated with success.

And now to the dismay of the two, Jim Travers did an extraordinary thing,--one that almost took away their breath.

Running to the fireplace, he caught up the largest brand, with which he hurried to the window, and raised the sash with one hand.

"What are you doing?" demanded Aunt Cynthia in consternation.

"Never mind me," replied the youth; "I'm all right."

And then they literally became speechless when they saw him slide back the bolt which held the shutter in place. It looked as if he meant to open the way for the tiger to enter the house.

While thus busy, Jim thought proper to add a word of explanation,--

"There's nothing that wild beasts is so afeard of as fire; that's what I'm going to play on this chap."

The women were too frightened to protest.

After sliding back the fastenings, Jim stood leaning slightly forward, the torch in one hand, while the other rested against the shutter, which was not yet pushed open.

He was listening, and awaiting the opportune moment.

He plainly heard the _tip_, _tip_, of those feet, amid which a cavernous growl now and then mingled; but he hesitated, for the tiger appeared to be too far off to spring his scheme upon him.

Jim's coolness was marvelous. None was more terrified than he when the beast broke out of the cage, and he was among the most panic-stricken that dashed from the tent and fled homeward.

But here he was, like a veteran sportsman of the jungle, awaiting the critical moment with what looked like nerves of steel. He listened with all the acuteness of which he was master, and his keen ears did not deceive him.

Suddenly he flung both shutters wide open, and let in the flood of sunshine, which rendered useless the lamp on the table.

There was the tiger, no more than a dozen feet distant. The slight noise caused him to stop abruptly and turn his head while walking away.

The sight of the lad seemed to whet his fury. He lashed his tail, growled, and, swinging himself lightly round, cautiously approached the daring youngster, as if not quite satisfied with the look of things.

Jim leaned farther through the window, and swung his torch round and round, extending it at the same time toward the beast, which paused a few steps off, as if to gather himself for the spring.

The lad felt the need of vigor. He whirled the torch harder, and reached farther, shouting,--

"Get out, or I'll burn your head off! Come any nearer if you dare!"--

At this moment Jim, in his enthusiasm, leaned a trifle too far. His feet slipped over the floor, and he sprawled headfirst out of the window.

Chapter IV.

Jim Travers felt that he was lost. The women uttered cries of anguish, clasped their hands, and almost fainted.

Sometimes, however, a person instinctively does the best thing possible, when, if he took time for thought, he would do the worst.

The antipathy of wild beasts to fire is well known, but it must be remembered that the full degree of this terror is felt only during the darkness of night. The sun was in the horizon when the stirring events we have set out to narrate were going on.

When Jim came tumbling through the window, he held fast to the blazing torch, even while trying to save himself from falling. His dexterity enabled him to keep fair command of his limbs, and he bounded to his feet in a twinkling, at the moment when he expected Tippo Sahib to come down upon him like a clawing avalanche.

Then, instead of turning about and clambering back through the window (the surest means of inviting the attack of the beast), he uttered a shout, and, holding the torch in front, ran straight at the tiger!

It may be doubted whether the fiercest of wild creatures would have withstood such an a.s.sault. Even though the sun was shining, the tiger knew something of the meaning of that glowing brand. Wheeling about like a cat, he trotted off, turning his head from side to side, and frequently glancing at his pursuer.

His flight brought him into the field of vision of Tom Gordon up-stairs, who had been mystified to understand what was going on below.

"I'll finish him this time," was his conclusion, as he flung up the window, thrust the barrel of the weapon through, and dropped on one knee.

But it seemed as if fate held that particular royal Bengal tiger in its special keeping that day. Before Tom could make his aim certain, Jim Travers popped in front, so in line with the beast that the young marksman could not fire at one without risk of hitting the other.

"I daresen't do it," he decided, leaning his gun against the wall beside him; "I'm afeard of hitting Jim."

Although the latter had displayed an extraordinary degree of coolness at a critical point in the events, it must not be supposed that he possessed any unusual share of courage. It was his implicit faith in the blazing torch that inspired him to a daring that few men would have shown; but on the outside he lost his head.

He was hardly conscious of what he was doing when he sat off after the fleeing animal, and there's no saying what the end would have been, or rather there's no doubt that he would have feared ill, had not Tom called to him,--

"Come back, Jim! Your torch will soon go out, and then he'll have you sure!"

"Golly! that's so!" muttered Jim, stopping like a flash, and dashing for the house again; "I didn't think of that!"

Good Mrs. Gordon and Aunt Cynthia had recovered in a degree their senses.

Unspeakably shocked by the peril of the youth, whose courage they estimated too highly, they shrank from no risk that could aid his final escape. They had not closed the shutter after his mishap, and, when they saw him wheel and run back, they stood by the window ready to receive him.

Jim Travers was a good runner; and when it is stated that he was certain Tippo Sahib was skurrying at his heels, it need not be added that he "surpa.s.sed himself" in the way of fleetness. Finding, after running a short way, that the beast was not after him, Jim flung aside the torch and went through the window like a cannon shot, rolling over and striking the other side of the room before his flight was checked. A lad of his years, however, rarely suffers from hard knocks and b.u.mps, and he was on his feet the next moment.