The moon appeared again, and I attacked both cold coffee and brandy, and made myself as comfortable as possible under existing circumstances--to wit, wringing the water out of my jacket and cap, and putting them on again warm and comparatively dry. The cow even shook herself, and appeared glad of the change of weather, and I had no doubt that she would go back with me to the tent in the morning to gladden the eyes of her young calf and all good Hindoos. The nullah had run dry again, and even the infernal frogs, as if despairing of more rain, had ceased their din: damp and sleepy, with arms folded and eyes sometimes open, but often shut, I kept an indifferent watch, when the cow struggling on her legs and a choking groan brought me to my senses! There they were! No dream! A huge tiger holding her just behind the ears, shaking her like a fighting dog! By the doubtful light of a watery moon did I calmly and noiselessly run out the muzzle of my single J. Lang rifle. I saw him, without quitting his grip of the cow's neck, leap over her back more than once--she sank to the earth, and he lifted her up again: at the first opportunity I pulled trigger--snick! The rifle was withdrawn, and big Sam Nock felt grateful to the touch. Left barrel--snick! Right barrel--snick, bang! Whether hanging fire is an excuse or not, the tiger relinquished his hold, and in one bound was out of sight. The cow staggered for two or three seconds, fell with a heavy groan, and ceased to move. Tiger gone!--cow dead!--was it a dream? Killed the cow within five paces and gone away scathless. For a long time I felt benumbed; I had missed many near shots, even many at tigers, and some like this at night, but never before under such favorable circumstances. Why, I almost dreaded the morning, when my Shikaree and people would come and find the cow killed, and I should have in fairness to account for the rest. The first streak of daylight did shortly appear, and every familiar sound of awaking nature succeeded each other, from the receding hooting of the huge horned owl, to the noisy crowing of the jungle cock and the call of the peafowl. The sun got up, and soon I heard, first doubtfully and then distinctively, the approach of my people. A sudden start, and stop, when they came in full view of the slaughtered cow; and then, a look up and down the nullah, as if they had not seen all. The reader must spare me the recollection of a scene that vexes me even at this distance of time, as if it had occurred but yesterday. The next half-hour was spent sitting on the carcass of the cow, staring at the enormous and deeply indented prints of the tiger's feet, and looking with sorrow and vexation and some compunction at the poor little calf which had been driven back to its mother, neither to see her alive nor her death avenged.