ly strike the road that
ran about halfway between the hills and the Irrawaddy. He would
follow that for a time, and would try and strike the river
somewhere between Meloun and Keow-Uan.
Below this point there was a network of rivers, and but few
villages, and the country was swampy and unhealthy. He infinitely
preferred the risks of the descent by the river to those by road;
and it seemed to him that, if he could but obtain possession of one
of the small native fishing boats, he could drop down at night,
unnoticed, as the width of the river at Ava was upwards of a
thousand yards and, below that town, often considerably exceeded
that breadth.
When it became too dark to proceed further, he sat down at the foot
of a tree. He regretted that he had no means of lighting a fire;
and determined that, at any risk, he would obtain the means of
doing so at the first village that he came to--for he knew that
there were both tigers and leopards in the jungles. He thought,
however, that they were not likely to be numerous, so near the
capital; and the old priest had never alluded to them as a source
of danger though, indeed, it had never occurred to him to ask.
In the morning he continued his way. He had gone but a mile when he
heard a sudden scream in the wood, a short distance to his left.
Feeling sure that it was a human being, in great fear or pain, he
drew his knife and ran, at the top of his speed, in the direction
of the cry; thinking that it might be some man, or woman, attacked
by the robbers of the forest.
Suddenly he came upon a small open space, some twenty yards in
diameter. He hesitated, when his eyes fell on a group in the
centre. Two men were lying on the ground, and a leopard stood with
a paw on each of them. They had guns lying beside them, and a fire
was burning close by. He guessed that the animal had sprung from a
tree, one of whose boughs extended almost as far as the centre of
the opening. Probably it had killed one of the men in its spring
for, at the moment when he saw the animal, it was licking the blood
from the shoulder of the man on whom its right paw rested. The
other was, as far as Stanley could see, unhurt.
Illustration: Stanley gave a sudden spring, and buried his knife in
the leopard.
His tread in the light Burmese shoes had been almost noiseless; and
the leopard, which was keeping up a low growling, and whose back
was towards him, had apparently not noticed it. He hesitated for a
mom
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