The beast, screaming with pain and rage, bore
down upon Chal-az while I stood helpless with my rifle for fear
of hitting one of the warriors who were closing in upon it. But
Chal-az was ready. Throwing aside his bow, he crouched behind
his large oval shield, in the center of which was a hole about six
inches in diameter. The shield was held by tight loops to his left
arm, while in his right hand he grasped his heavy knife. Bristling
with spears and arrows, the great cat hurled itself upon the shield,
and down went Chal-az upon his back with the shield entirely covering
him. The tiger clawed and bit at the heavy rhinoceros hide with
which the shield was faced, while Chal-az, through the round hole in
the shield's center, plunged his blade repeatedly into the vitals
of the savage animal. Doubtless the battle would have gone to
Chal-az even though I had not interfered; but the moment that I
saw a clean opening, with no Kro-lu beyond, I raised my rifle and
killed the beast.
When Chal-az arose, he glanced at the sky and remarked that it
looked like rain. The others already had resumed the march toward
the village. The incident was closed. For some unaccountable
reason the whole thing reminded me of a friend who once shot a cat
in his backyard. For three weeks he talked of nothing else.
It was almost dark when we reached the village--a large palisaded
enclosure of several hundred leaf-thatched huts set in groups
of from two to seven.
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