It was a heavily-built animal, with thick neck and shoulders and slender legs, and it came on in a surly manner puffing and grunting. It knew its own strength, and a slow heavy kind of courage animated its gray, bristle-covered body. It had put the leopards to flight, it disdained the hyenas, routed the Dholes and the wolves; it would stand up to a lion if flight were impossible or a wound had infuriated it. The consciousness of having defeated all who had attacked it, made it less vigilant.
The wild boar reached the rushes where Zouhr was standing and, suddenly smelling his presence, stopped. The scent reminded it of the gibbon or the rhesus monkey, from whom it knew that it had nothing to fear. It merely grunted and passed on towards the bamboos. Then, in order to turn it towards the giant feline, Aoun shouted his war-cry, which was at once repeated by the son of Earth. The wild boar retreated, not because it was afraid, but from motives of prudence. A trap lurked always in the unknown! Neither the rhesus nor the gibbon had that singular voice. At the second cry it flung itself in the direction where the giant feline lay in ambush. A colossal form rose up; the wild boar thrust furiously with its tusks, but the beast which was upon it had almost the weight of a buffalo. It stumbled, its sides were torn open, and a pair of granite-like jaws were sunk in its throat… The red flow of life gushed out, and the wild boar sank on the grass in the throes of death.
When the prey was safely in the cave, Aoun wished to test whether the alliance was complete. He took his axe and cut off a leg of the wild boar; the giant feline did not interfere.
The men knew then that their strength had become as great as that of a horde.
They hunted many times with the great feline. Often they went long distances from the den, or their prey kept ever-further away from the domicile of the terrible inhabitant of the rocks. Aoun’s heart beat high. He aspired to yet more distant expeditions; impatient curiosity urged him on. One morning he said to Zouhr, “It is good that we should know the hunting grounds… Perhaps many beasts will go further off in the autumn. Will Zouhr accompany me beyond the haunts of the tigers?”
Zouhr had never refused to accompany his companion. Although his curiosity was less vagabond, it still was great, and intensified by youth.
“We will go and see the lands where the river goes,” he said.
They sharpened their weapons, dried and smoked some meat, roasted some roots, and set off just as the Sun, in all its grandeur, was rising above the further bank, deeper in color than the reddest of minium. Zouhr did not leave the cave without some regrets. He had lived in security and abundance there, and he had concluded an alliance with the great feline. But the soul of Aoun urged on his steps towards unexplored regions.
They advanced without difficulty until the middle of the day, and even after the noonday sleep, which the beat of the Sun made obligatory. Aoun’s sharp eyes and his Dhole-like sense of smell discovered the reptiles on their path; the carnivores slept, and only insects troubled them. Red-headed flies buzzed unbearably, and followed the odor of meat in myriads; stinging gnats flitted in the shade, and the wanderers had to guard against the great hornets, six or seven of which could kill a man. When they halted, the neighborhood of the white ants had to be avoided.
It was late when they reached the confluence. Aoun knew the river, having crossed it many times. He guided Zouhr over the line of erratic blocks, and brought him to the tigers’ hunting grounds. Then everything became terrible. During the day the lion is in his lair. Like man he prefers a fixed abode, to which he always returns. But the tiger prowls everywhere, and makes his resting place wherever the fortunes of the chase or the chance of his wanderings may lead him; he is content with places which would repel other wild animals… Therefore man cannot foresee his movements and cannot tell which way to take to avoid him…
The Oulhamr and the son of Earth walked at a little distance from each other, so as to increase the area of their observation. At first the presence of the herb-cropping animals assisted them: antelopes, saigas, gaurs and panolia2 deer would not have had their feeding grounds in the neighborhood of the tigers. When the land became empty around them, the nomads suffered tortures of anxiety. The country was varied; in some parts the jungle opened out into clear spaces, savannahs and marshes, in others the bamboos and palm-trees grew close together. Aoun thought it better to return towards the river, because the many islands in it promised safety. The solitude of the land became ever more profound, while the water was teeming with life. The wake of long alligators could be seen among the islands; hordes of webfooted creatures and waders dabbled in the coves, and sleeping pythons displayed their clammy coils.
“We have come near to the tigers,” said Zouhr in a low voice.
Aoun, listening intently, advanced at a slow pace. The jungle, which at first had lain far from the bank, was now close to it, a tangled mass of prickly growth covered with creepers.
The son of Earth stopped and said, “It is here that the tigers come down to the river to drink.”
He pointed out an opening in the brushwood. Other signs revealed themselves and Zouhr bent down to examine them more closely. They still exhaled an acrid odor. He whispered, “They have passed this way.” Zouhr was trembling with excitement. Aoun anxiously made ready his spear. It seemed as if something of the wild beasts themselves had remained there with their emanations… A crackling sound was heard in the thicket. The two men became as motionless as trees. Flight was useless. If the wild beasts were near, there was nothing left but to fight… But nothing appeared. Aoun sniffed the gentle breeze wafted from the jungle and said, “The tigers are still far away.”
They resumed their journey, making haste to pass the danger zone. Soon the jungle joined the actual river bank and as it became still more impenetrable at the edge, the men were obliged to change their direction and plunge inland among the bamboos.
Finally they reached a place where some herbivores were feeding. As twilight was coming on they tried to find a suitable place for a camp. There was no sign of a rock as far as the eye could reach, and it was no longer possible to reach an island. The country was enveloped in jungle; evening would be upon them before they could reach the water.
Zouhr discovered a group of seven bamboos, which, as they grew close together, formed a kind of enclosure. Three of the interstices were so narrow that a man could not pass between them; Aoun and Zouhr could just squeeze in sideways through two of the others, but it would be impossible for a lion or a tiger to make its way through them. The two last were more than an ell wide at the base, but grew narrower towards the top, so that it would be necessary to close them with branches or creepers up to twice Aoun’s height from the ground.
They quickly tore up some creepers and young bamboos which would make a solid barrier. The son of Urus prepared them, while Zouhr, who was more clever at constructing things, tied and interlaced them according to the custom of his ancestors.
Twilight had come when their work was finished, and no suspicious form had appeared about them. They then made a fire and roasted dried meat and roots. It was a pleasant repast, for effort had augmented their hunger, and they tasted the joy and pride of their manhood. No animal, not even among those that knew most about construction, would have been able to protect itself from the carnivores so quickly and so securely. When they had eaten, they remained for some time at the entrance of their refuge.
The Moon, which had completed nearly half its course, was moving westward. A few stars shone in the sky, and Zouhr asked himself what sort of men lit them every evening. Their minuteness was surprising. They seemed like the points of feeble torches, while the Sun and Moon resembled fires lit with branches. But as they burnt for so long, it must be that their flames were continually fed: Zouhr tried to make out the forms of those who piled wood on them, and could not understand why they remained invisible… Sometimes he wondered about the immense beat of the Sun, which was stronger when it shone high in the sky than when towards evening it grew much larger. These dreams soon mystified
and wearied Zouhr. He abandoned them, and even completely forgot them. This evening he remembered the clouds which had become filled with flames after the Sun’s departure. There were more fires in the west than if all the fires lit by the Oulhamrs during a whole winter had been united in one evening… And all those fires produced less light and heat than the Sun. Zouhr thought about it for a moment, then his reflections almost frightened him. None of the Men-without-Shoulders or the Oulhamrs had ever seemed to be moved by this thought.
He said mechanically, “What men light the sky when the Sun is gone?”
Aoun, after dreaming of tigers, had fallen into that sort of torpor which did not prevent his senses taking note of all the perils of the night. Zouhr’s question awoke him.
He did not quite understand it at first, and he was not surprised, for Zouhr had ideas which were strange to other men.
Lifting his head towards the zenith, he considered the stars.
“Is Zouhr speaking of the little fires in the sky?”
“No, Zouhr is speaking of the big red and yellow fires which have just gone out. Are they lit by hordes?… If so they must be more numerous than the Oulhamrs, the Kzamms and the Red Dwarfs.”
Aoun’s brow contracted. He vaguely imagined beings hidden above him, and the idea was a disagreeable one.
“Night puts out the fires,” he replied with hesitation… “Night makes our fire shine more brightly!”
This reply disconcerted the son of Earth, and he continued to think of it long after Aoun had forgotten the question which did not interest him.
Meanwhile the breeze freshened and brought sounds from far off. Furtive animals moved over the moor and disappeared. Some of them stopped to look at the fire, the light of which shone ever more brightly. Five or six Dholes prowled around stealthily, smelling the odor of roast meat, but they soon disappeared. Suddenly some panolia deer came out of the jungle and ran wildly away.
Aoun sat up. He sniffed, listened and whispered, “It is time to go into the refuge.”
Then he added, “The tiger is near!”
They slipped between the interstices of the bamboos.
The brushwood had been pushed aside at a little distance from them. A striped animal appeared in the silver and ash-gray colored light. It was as large as a lion in bulk, but it was not so high, and its body was longer and more supple. The Oulhamrs and the Men-without-Shoulders dreaded it more than any other living creature, for the lion had less cunning, fury and swiftness, the saber-tooth was unknown on the other side of the mountains, and among the Oulhamrs two old warriors, Naoh and Goun of the Dry Bones, were the only men who had met the giant feline.
The tiger moved without haste, with sinuous undulations that had a terrifying effect. It halted at the sight of the flames, lifting its thickset head and displaying a pale chest, while its eyes shone like glow-worms. It was the largest tiger that Aoun and Zouhr had ever seen. Despite the anxiety which made the blood course faster through his veins, the son of Urus admired it, for he had a predilection for powerful animals, even when they were his enemies.
He said however, “The tiger of the Men-Devourers is stronger than this one.”
Zouhr added, “He is as a leopard in comparison with the lion of the rocks.”
Notwithstanding this they felt that, for a man, the tiger was as much to be feared as their brute companion of the cave.
The tiger halted a moment and then approached obliquely in a diffident manner. It feared the fire; it had fled before it when the prairie was struck by lightning, but this glow more resembled the light which appears at the end of night. It came so close that it began to feel the heat, and at the same time it saw the dancing flames and heard their roaring and crackling. Its mistrust grew; it walked around the fire at a safe distance and this movement brought it near the bamboos. It caught sight of the men at the same moment that their smell made it aware of their presence.
It snarled, and gave two hunting cries like those of the Dholes.
Without thinking, Aoun replied by shouting his war-cry. The tiger gave a start of surprise and looked sharply at its adversaries. Their odor resembled that of its most timid victims, their size seemed hardly greater than that of wolves.
Now all those that could stand against it were of immense stature. These, however, were unknown to the tiger, and age having endowed it with experience of surprises, it practiced prudence. The proximity of the fire added mystery to the strangeness of the men. The tiger approached the bamboos slowly, then it walked around them. Its long life in the jungle had perfected its instinct for judging distances, that instinct which invariably enabled it to make sure of its prey when it could be attained at one bound. It knew also the strength of the bamboos. It did not attempt to force the narrow interstices; it stopped in front of the interlaced branches and creepers. It tried them with its claws and attempted to tear out the thinnest ones, when Aoun’s spear all but came in contact with its nostrils. It drew back growling and stood undecided. This attack made the unknown creature more strange to it. Its anger rose, a furious growl rattled in its throat, and gathering itself up for a spring, it attempted an overwhelming attack. This time the spear caught an angle of its jaw, for the oscillation of the branches and the carnivore’s movement had not permitted Aoun to take good aim. The assailant realized the resistance offered by the obstacle and the man’s courage; it drew back again, crouched on the ground and waited.
It was not the hour for hunting. The tiger was thirsty. Had it not seen the fire it would have gone first to the river. After a time its anger cooled; it felt again that dryness of the glands which only fresh water could appease…
Then with a long snarl, it got up, walked twice around the refuge and went away. There was a gap in the jungle which led to the river bank. Aoun and Zouhr saw it disappear.
“It will come back,” said Zouhr, “perhaps with its mate.”
“Not a single creeper has been torn away,” replied the son of Urus.
They thought of their late peril for some time, but they felt no anxiety about the future. The refuge had protected them and would protect them again. It was unnecessary even to watch, and as soon as they lay down they were lost in slumber.
VIII. The Attack of the Tiger
Aoun woke when a third of the night had passed. The Moon had gone down behind the western jungle, and its light reddened the vapors which were condensing on the branches. The moor was covered with pale gray shadows; the fire shed only a faint light near the seven bamboos.
At first the warrior only saw the motionless vegetation, but his sense of smell warned him of a living presence. Then a shadow emerged, became detached from a clump of palm-trees and approached cautiously towards him. Aoun knew it was the tiger from the moment he opened his eyes, and he watched it come with anxiety and anger. The daring spirit which worked in him like a storm on the waters dilated his chest. Although he knew the tiger’s superiority over man, and despite the secret horror which possessed him, he desired to fight. Had not Naoh conquered the gray wolf and the tigress, had he not himself overcome the saber-tooth, the victor of the rhinoceros? For a moment he felt giddy, but this soon passed, the prudence of his ancestors calmed his blood; he knew that neither Naoh nor Faouhm nor the Hairy Men would have attacked the tiger unless their own lives had been in danger…
Besides, one had awoken who would restrain him. The son of Earth became aware in his turn of the terrible presence. He looked at his companion, who had raised his club, and said, “The tiger has not found any prey.”
“If he comes near us,” said the other in a quivering voice, “Aoun will fling his spear and harpoon.”
“It is dangerous to wound the tiger. Its fury is greater than that of the lion,” was the reply.
“And if it will not go away from our refuge?”
“Aoun and Zouhr have provisions for two days.”
“We have no water and the tigress may join him.”
Zouhr did not reply. He had already thought of that. He kne
w that the wild beasts would sometimes take turns in watching a difficult prey. After hesitating a moment he re-plied, “The tiger has been alone since last night. Perhaps the tigress is far from here.”
Aoun could not see sufficiently clearly into the future to insist; his attention was concentrated on the tiger, which had come within five ells of the bamboos.
They could distinctly see the thickset muzzle, fringed at the back with stiff hairs, the eyes shining more brightly than before. Aoun had a strange horror of their green light, and they made Zouhr tremble. At intervals growls could be heard on the moor. The tiger came closer; then it began to prowl up and down and around the shelter, with an awful and exasperating patience. It seemed as if it expected that the interstices would grow bigger or the interlaced creepers and bamboos become relaxed. Each time it came close to them the two men trembled as if the wild beast’s hope was about to be realized.
Finally it crouched in the dry grass. From there it observed them patiently, and from time to time opened its great jaws, so that the dying light of the fire shone upon its fangs.
“It will still be there in the morning,” said Aoun.
Zouhr did not reply. He was looking at two little branches of the turpentine-tree which he had exposed to the fire, for he always liked to have some dry wood ready. He split the thinnest one down its whole length and gathered together some twigs.
“Zouhr is not going to make a fire!” exclaimed the son of Urus reprovingly.
“There is no wind; the ground of our refuge is bare; the bamboos are young,” said Zouhr striking the stone flint against the marcasite… “Zouhr has only need of a little fire!”
Helgvor of the Blue River Page 19