He, turned his head and growled as he saw me, and, without a moment’s thought I raised the barrels and fired another shower of buttons in his face. I turned and fled; but a roar followed which I shall never forget, and I found myself, breathless, at the bottom of a precipice, with my gun upraised, expecting to see the angry creature upon me; but strange enough he did not follow. The villagers, who were assembled two hundred yards away, all ran when I ran; but seeing the Tiger did nut pursue, one of them came forward and put me on his knees, and patting me on the back, helped to bring back my breath, which I had lost by the fall. We crept up to the window again. Every one of the thick wooden bars had been knocked out by the force of the leap; but from the blood only splashing the outside of the window, it was evident the Tiger had not come out of the building. We looked in at the window, and just below, outstretched on the floor in a pool of blood, lay the Tiger. I threw up my hand and shouted to my friend, who watched the proceedings at a distance, that the Tiger was dead. At the noise, the Tiger raised his head and growled. He was a Cat, of course, and had the usual nine lives. I went to the villagers and proposed a joint attack, but they would not consent. Some of them ascended the hills behind and fired on to the roof of the house in which the Tiger was sheltered. It was getting dark, so breathless and hurt I took boat and returned to Amoy. A few hours after the Tiger is said to have moved away; but whether he died or recovered his wounds I could never satisfactorily learn, so contradictory were the stories told.”