“An interesting case,” the Doctor muttered to himself, “if it had been anyone else than Bathurst. I expect the tiger will be some little time before it is down. Bathurst,” he said, in a quiet voice. Three times he repeated the observation, each time raising his voice higher, before Bathurst heard him. “The sooner it comes the better,” Bathurst said, between his teeth. “I would rather face a hundred tigers than this infernal din.” A quarter of an hour passed, and the Doctor, rifle in hand, was watching the bushes in front when he saw a slight movement among the leaves on his right, the side on which Bathurst was stationed. “That’s him, Bathurst; he has headed back; he caught sight of either your elephant or mine; he will make a bolt in another minute now unless he turns back on the beaters.” A minute later there was a gleam of tawny yellow among the long grass, and quick as thought the Doctor fired. With a sharp snarl the tiger leaped out, and with two short bounds sprang onto the head of the elephant ridden by Bathurst. The mahout gave a cry of pain, for the talons of one of the forepaws were fixed in his leg. Bathurst leaned forward and thrust the spear he held deep into the animal’s neck. At the same moment the Doctor fired again, and the tiger, shot through the head, fell dead, while, with a start, Bathurst lost his balance and fell over the elephant’s head onto the body of the tiger. It was fortunate indeed for him that the ball had passed through the tiger’s skull from ear to ear, and that life was extinct before it touched the ground. Bathurst sprang to his feet, shaken and bewildered, but otherwise unhurt. “He is as dead as a door nail!” the Doctor shouted, “and lucky for you he was so; if he had had a kick left in him you would have been badly torn.” “I should never have fallen off,” Bathurst said angrily, “if you had not fired. I could have finished him with the spear.” “You might or you might not; I could not wait to think about that; the tiger had struck its claws into the mahout’s leg, and would have had him off the elephant in another moment. That is a first rate animal you were riding on, or he would have turned and bolted; if he had done so you and the mahout would have both been off to a certainty.” By this time the shouts of some natives, who had taken their posts in trees near at hand, told the beaters that the shots they had heard had been successful, and with shouts of satisfaction they came rushing down. The Doctor at once dispatched one of them to bring up his trap and Bathurst’s horse, and then examined the tiger. It was a very large one, and the skin was in good condition, which showed that he had not taken to man eating long. The Doctor bound up the wound on the mahout’s leg, and then superintended the skinning of the animal while waiting for the arrival of the trap. When it came up he said, “You might as well take a seat by my side, Bathurst; the syce will sit behind and lead your horse.”