, as the caged
brutes usually do when they think they are going to be fed; for all his
age he looked as full of fight as a newly caught young one, and his long
yellow fangs flashed from under the curled lip--until the Mahatma spoke
to him. He only said one word that I could hear, and I could not catch
what the word was; but instantly the black brute slunk away to the
corner of its cage farthest from the iron door, and at that the Mahatma
opened the door without using any key that I detected. The padlock may
have been a trick one, but I know this;--it came away in his hands the
moment he touched it.

Then at last he took notice of King and me again. He stood aside, and
smiled, and motioned to us with his hand to enter the cage ahead of him.
I have been several sorts of rash idiot in my time, and I daresay that
King has too, for most of us have been young once; but I have also
hunted panthers, and so has King, and to walk unarmed or even with
weapons--into a black panther's cage is something that calls, I should
say, for inexperience. The more you know about panthers the less likely
you are to do it. It was almost pitch-dark; you could see the brute's
yellow eyes gleaming, but no other part of him now, because he matched
the shadows perfectly; but, being a cat, he could see us, and the odds
against a man who should walk into that cage were, as a rough guess, ten
trillion to one.

"Fear is the presence of death, and death is delusion. Follow me then,"
said the Mahatma.

He walked straight in, keeping the lighted lantern on the side of him
farthest from the panther, whose claws I could hear scratching on the
stone flags.

"Keep that light toward him for God's sake!" I urged, having myself had
to use a lantern more than a score of times for protection at night
against the big cats.

"Nay, it troubles his eyes. For God's sake I will hide it from him," the
Mahatma answered. "We must not wait here."

"Come on," said King, and strode in through the open door. So I went in
too, because I did not care to let King see me hesitate. Curiosity had
vanished. I was simply in a blue funk, and rather angry as well at the
absurdity of what we were doing.

The Gray Mahatma turned and shut the gate behind me, taking no notice at
all of the black brute that crouched in the other corner, grumbling and
moaning rather than growling.

Have you ever seen a panther spit and spring when a keeper shoved it out
of the way with the cleaning