lly lowered. Skag guided
the butt to the base of the pit, and fixed it there as far as possible
from the tiger. This was delicate. His every movement was maddeningly
deliberate, the danger, of course, being to put the tiger into a
fighting panic.

"Now you climb," Skag said.

"No--"

"It is better so. I am old at these things. He will not leap at you
while I am here--"

"You mean he might leap, as you start to shin up the pole--alone?"

"No, that will be the second time. It will not infuriate him--the
second one to climb."

"I'll gamble with you--who goes first."

"You said that you were taking orders," Skag said coldly.

"That's a fact. But this isn't to my relish, son--"

"We do not need more words."

Cadman Sahib had reached safety. The natives were around him, feeling
his arms and limbs, stuttering questions. He bade them be silent,
caught up his rifle and covered the tiger, while Skag made the tilted
pole, beckoning the rifle back.

"It's been a hard night for him," he said.

The two men stood together in the morning light. Cadman's face was
deeply shaded by the big helmet again, but his eyes bored into the
young one's as he offered his cigarette-case. Skag took one, lit it
carelessly. Cadman was watching his hands.

"You've got it, son," he said.

"Got what?"

"The good grey nerve. . . . Not a flicker in your hand. I wanted to
know. . . . Say, cheer up--"

Skag was looking toward the tiger trap.

"Ah, I see," said Cadman Sahib.

"The circus is a hard life," Skag said.

That was a kind of a feast day. . . . At noon the natives had the
tiger up in sunlight, caged in bamboo. Skag presently came into a
startling kind of joy to hear his friend make an offer to buy the
beast. Negotiations moved slowly, but the thing was done. That
afternoon the journey toward Coldwater Ruins was continued with eight
carriers, the tiger swung between them. Skag was mystified. What
could Cadman mean? What could he do with a tiger at the Ruins or in
the Monkey Forest? The natives apparently had not been told the
destination, but they must know soon. It was all strange. Skag liked
it better alone with his friend. Halt was called that afternoon, the
sun still in the sky. The two white men walked apart.

"You get the drift, my son?"

Skag shook his head.

"Of course, the natives won't like it; they won't understand. But
we're sure he isn't a man-eater--"

Skag's chest heaved.