“At an early hour on the next morning, however, we followed his ‘spoor,’ and soon came to the spot where he had passed the night. The sand here was one patch of blood, and the bushes immediately about were broken and beaten down by his weight, as he had staggered to and fro in his effort to get on his legs again. Strange to say, however, we here lost all clue to the beast. A large troop of Lions that had been feasting on a Giraffe in the early morning had obliterated his tracks; and it was not until some days afterwards, and when the carcase was in a state of decomposition, that his death was ascertained. He breathed his last very near to where we were ‘at fault,’ but in prosecuting the search we had unfortunately taken exactly the opposite direction.” CHAPTER III. THE CAT FAMILY--THE TIGER AND THE LEOPARD. THE TIGER--Its Colour, Size, &c.--Geographical Distribution--Mention of the Tiger by Ancient Writers--Habits of the Tiger--Its Destructiveness--Native Superstitions--Tiger-hunting--THE LEOPARD--Historical Account--External Characters--Size--Geographical Distribution--Varieties--Habits--Love of Dog-meat--Clay-eating Propensities--Attracted by Small-pox Patients. THE TIGER.[15] As the Lion is king of beasts in Central Africa, so the Tiger reigns supreme on a large portion of Southern Asia, where it is the most dreaded foe of the native, and the noblest game of the English sportsman. Its great size, its wonderful activity and strength, its glorious colouring, make it, in many respects, the most striking of all the great Carnivora. The marvellous symmetry of its form, making it almost to much a “line of beauty in perpetual motion” as the Greyhound; the flame-like bands of orange-yellow, with interspersed black shadows, winding over its lithe sides and terrible countenance; the ferocity of its disposition, and its seeming uselessness for anything but destruction, have been the theme of one of the weirdest, most wonderful melodies of the artist-poet Blake, who sings of it thus:-- “Tiger, tiger, burning bright In the forests of the night, What immortal hand or eye Could frame thy fearful symmetry? “In what distant deeps or skies Burnt the fire of thine eyes? On what wings dare he aspire? What dread hand dare seize the fire? “And what shoulder, and what art, Could twist the sinews of thy heart? And when thy heart began to beat, What dread hand? and what dread feet? “What the hammer? What the chain? In what furnace was thy brain? What the anvil? What dread grasp Dare its deadly terrors clasp? “When the stars threw down their spears, And water’d heaven with their tears, Did He smile His work to see? Did He who made the lamb make thee? “Tiger, tiger, burning bright In the forests of the night, What immortal hand or eye Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?”