ences of cobras. The sound was
strident and evidently came from under the hay upon which I rested.
Then it struck one! two! It was our American alarum-clock, which always
traveled with me. I could not help laughing at myself, and, at the same
time, feeling a little ashamed of my involuntary fright.

But neither the hissing, nor the loud striking of the clock, nor my
sudden movement, that made Miss X---- raise her sleepy head, awakened
Gulab-Sing, who still hung over the precipice. Another half hour passed.
The far-away roar of the festivity was still heard, but everything round
me was calm and still. Sleep fled further and further from my eyes. A
fresh, strong wind arose, before the dawn, rustling the leaves and then
shaking the tops of the trees that rose above the abyss. My attention
became absorbed by the group of three Rajputs before me--by the two
shield bearers and their master. I cannot tell why I was specially
attracted at this moment by the sight of the long hair of the servants,
which was waving in the wind, though the place they occupied was
comparatively sheltered. I turned my eyes upon their Sahib, and the
blood in my veins stood still. The veil of somebody's topi, which hung
beside him, tied to a pillar, was simply whirling in the wind, while the
hair of the Sahib himself lay as still as if it had been glued to his
shoulders, not a hair moved, nor a single fold of his light muslin
garment. No statue could be more motionless. What is this then? I said
to myself. Is it delirium? Is this a hallucination, or a wonderful
inexplicable reality? I shut my eyes, telling myself I must look no
longer. But a moment later I again looked up, startled by a crackling
sound from above the steps. The long, dark silhouette of some animal
appeared at the entrance, clearly outlined against the pale sky. I saw
it in profile. Its long tail was lashing to and fro. Both the servants
rose swiftly and noiselessly and turned their heads towards Gulab-Sing,
as if asking for orders. But where was Gulab-Sing? In the place which,
but a moment ago, he occupied, there was no one. There lay only the
topi, torn from the pillar by the wind. I sprang up: a tremendous roar
deafened me, filling the vihara, wakening the slumbering echoes, and
resounding, like the softened rumbling of thunder, over all the borders
of the precipice. Good heavens! A tiger!

Before this thought had time to shape itself clearly in my mind, the
sleepers sprang up and