Adventure and adventurers -- Fiction; Deserts -- Fiction
Presently the reflection of the moon descending on the horizon lit up
the den, rendering gradually visible and resplendent the spotted skin of
a panther.
This lion of Egypt slept, curled up like a big dog, the peaceful
possessor of a sumptuous niche at the gate of an hotel; its eyes opened
for a moment and closed again; its face was turned towards the man. A
thousand confused thoughts passed through the Frenchman’s mind; first he
thought of killing it with a bullet from his gun, but he saw there was
not enough distance between them for him to take proper aim--the shot
would miss the mark. And if it were to wake!--the thought made his limbs
rigid. He listened to his own heart beating in the midst of the silence,
and cursed the too violent pulsations which the flow of blood brought
on, fearing to disturb that sleep which allowed him time to think of
some means of escape.
Twice he placed his hand on his scimiter, intending to cut off the
head of his enemy; but the difficulty of cutting the stiff short hair
compelled him to abandon this daring project. To miss would be to die
for CERTAIN, he thought; he preferred the chances of fair fight, and
made up his mind to wait till morning; the morning did not leave him
long to wait.
He could now examine the panther at ease; its muzzle was smeared with
blood.
“She’s had a good dinner,” he thought, without troubling himself as to
whether her feast might have been on human flesh. “She won’t be hungry
when she gets up.”
It was a female. The fur on her belly and flanks was glistening white;
many small marks like velvet formed beautiful bracelets round her feet;
her sinuous tail was also white, ending with black rings; the overpart
of her dress, yellow like burnished gold, very lissome and soft, had the
characteristic blotches in the form of rosettes, which distinguish the
panther from every other feline species.
This tranquil and formidable hostess snored in an attitude as graceful
as that of a cat lying on a cushion. Her blood-stained paws, nervous and
well armed, were stretched out before her face, which rested upon them,
and from which radiated her straight slender whiskers, like threads of
silver.
If she had been like that in a cage, the Provencal would doubtless have
admired the grace of the animal, and the vigorous contrasts of vivid
color which gave her robe an imperial splendor; but just then his sight
was troubled by her sinister appearance.
The presence of the panther, even asleep, could not fail to produce the
effect which the magnetic eyes of the serpent are said to have on the
nightingale.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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