Philip Caveney - Tiger, Tiger

‘Why?’ The other man stared back at him defiantly.

‘How many tigers do you suppose are out in that jungle now, Mr Beresford? Do you think you could put a figure on it?’

Bob shrugged. ‘Wouldn’t have a clue,’ he admitted. ‘Hey, but look here. You’re a fine one to talk, I must say! You’ve hunted them before, what makes it right for you and wrong for me?’

‘I didn’t say that it was right for me.’

‘Yeah … well, anyway, this one’s a cattle-killer.’

Harry smiled sardonically but he kept gazing intently into the other man’s eyes.

‘Ah, yes,’ he murmured. ‘Of course he is. I’d forgotten about that.’

Melissa had been listening quietly to the two men’s conversation for some time but now she saw the need to move in and referee again. The atmosphere of antagonism between the two of them was extraordinary, though it did seem to stem more from Harry than from the young Australian.

Harry said nothing further, but simply sat regarding the two of them with an expression of open resentment on his face. For Melissa’s part, she was quite happy to chat with Bob Beresford, who was the most interesting proposition that had come her way in a long time. Not only was he strikingly handsome, but he was cheerful and easy to talk to. Still, Harry’s presence made the whole thing rather uncomfortable and Melissa was relieved when she saw her father returning with a bundle of papers under his arm. The relief was short-lived, though, for Harry immediately excused himself, mumbling something about some work he had to do.

‘What on earth’s wrong with Harry?’ asked Dennis, as the old man swept out of the room. ‘He’s got a face like thunder.’

There was a brief silence.

‘Anybody fancy a drink?’ asked Bob awkwardly.

Haji was just about at his wits’ end with Timah. His repeated cuffings and bites served only to discipline her for a very short time. Then her spirits would rise again and she would resume her childish antics, hiding among the bushes, pouncing out at him unexpectedly, pursuing him along the cattle trails like some overgrown cub. It was more than his dignity could bear, and in the end he was moved to indicate to her, by a series of movements and growls, that if she did not curb her frivolity, he would refuse to take her to the kill. This did the trick, for she was every bit as hungry as he was and now she trotted obediently along in his wake.

After some time, they neared the place where Haji had made the kill and they could smell quite clearly the stink of rotten meat that had lain in the hot sun all day. This was tantalizing and Timah would have gone straight to the feast, but Haji directed a low growl of warning at her and she flopped down in the grass to wait with quiet reluctance. Haji did likewise, listening intently and peering into the darkness. He could see the mound of vegetation where the carcass lay and the rustling sounds of movement that reached him from the spot were quickly identified. A pair of large monitor lizards had found the kill and were snapping eagerly at the exposed viscera. Always suspicious, Haji took a long, slow stroll around the area, viewing it from every angle until he was sure that everything was as he had left it. Then, circling back to Timah, he indicated that all was well. The lizards skittered madly away as the big cats approached.

Haji flopped down again, waiting politely while Timah ate her fill. This she did quite eagerly, throwing herself upon the carcass and tearing at the putrefying flesh in a frenzy. She consumed over half the meat that was left on the carcass and at last, satisfied, she moved off to the river to quench her thirst. Now it was Haji’s turn. His appetite was less keen, for he had dined well the previous night. Even so, he had little trouble in stripping the cow down to a poor collection of bare bones. Then he too moved to the river to drink. They lay stretched out beside the kill for a while, listening to the steady vibrant hum of the insects in the night. But Haji was always restless in the vicinity of an eating place and after a short while he got up and led the way along a familiar cattle trail. Timah followed him for a distance of several miles but then they came to a place where the trail forked left and right. Haji started along the right fork, but after he had gone a little way, he realized that Timah was no longer following him. He turned to gaze back at her. She was standing, looking at him, and everything about her stance and expression told him that she wished to take the lefthand path. He growled once, a half-hearted command for her to follow him, but he knew before he had uttered the sound that she would not heed him. In many ways, after the wild behaviour she had exhibited earlier, he was relieved. Without further comment, he continued on his way and when he glanced back a second time the trail behind him was quite empty. He was not surprised to see this. The solitary life was the way of the tiger.

He moved on along the path and vanished into darkness.

The car sped recklessly along the jungle road. Melissa glanced at her father’s face. In the green glow of the dashboard it looked alien, unfamiliar. The two of them had just been discussing Uncle Harry’s mysterious mood earlier that evening.

‘The long and the short of it,’ concluded Dennis, ‘is that he just doesn’t like Bob Beresford.’

‘Why ever not?’

‘Oh, search me. But it’s a fact. Harry always says it’s because the poor fellow’s Australian, but somehow that isn’t reason enough. Do you sense an … antagonism between them? Almost a rivalry?’

‘Yes, but from Uncle Harry more than from Bob.’

Dennis glanced at her slyly. ‘Oh, so it’s Bob already, is it?’

She smiled. ‘Yes, why not? I’m eighteen now, Daddy, you must bear that in mind!’

‘Melissa, I stopped trying to keep you in order years ago. I’ve got nothing against the Aussies, anyway.’

‘He’s not like most Aussies.’

‘Hmm.’ Dennis frowned. ‘Just the same, I’d watch what you say to Harry. He might get jealous.’

Melissa chuckled. ‘Oh really, you have to laugh. Anyone would think Harry and I are engaged, the way you’re going on.’

‘Yes, but you know how fond he is of you, Melissa. God knows what he’ll do when we shove off back to England. Poor old fellow …’

‘We’ve done everything we can to get him to go with us.’

‘Yes …’ Dennis sighed. ‘But let’s face it, he wouldn’t be happy anyplace but here. He belongs .’

The car sped onwards in the comforting direction of home.

It was early morning and Haji was prowling amongst familiar mangrove swamps, where the silted yellow sluggishness of a river collapsed into a misery of pools and muddy sandbanks. A couple of fat frogs leapt away from his approach and slapped into water. He was, as yet, not hungry enough to bother with them, but when times were particularly hard, there was very little that he considered beneath his dignity. Before now he had eaten many frogs, also snakes, crabs, turtles, and even fish when the opportunity had presented itself. Wild pigs were generally the mainstay of his diet, but lately there seemed to be a bewildering shortage of the creatures and the only signs of them he had encountered all day had been months old.

He came to a place now where a great outcrop of rock jutted up from the surrounding trees and undergrowth and he recalled that here was an old favourite sleeping place of his, a small cave at the base of the rock. But as he neared it, he was perturbed by a powerful smell that seemed to be issuing from within. It was in a strange way familiar and at the same time it incorporated another smell that did not belong with the first odour. He came to a halt for a moment, sniffing and grimacing, unsure of what to do. At last, he ventured a little nearer and issued a loud roar of enquiry; whereupon several large black shapes came squawking and flapping out of the darkness, almost blundering right into him. Haji was so startled, he almost turned tail and ran. But then he realized that the creatures had been just a flock of scavenging magpies who had clearly not noticed his approach. Still, the shock had unnerved him a little and he paced backwards and forwards for several minutes, his head down, while he made low rumbling growls deep in his throat. He began to move away from the cave, but the smell antagonized him with its nagging familiarity and at the back of his mind was the thought that the cave must hold some kind of food if the magpies had been there. So he approached again, slowly, cautiously, craning his head forward to peer into the dark interior. The smell became more powerful by the moment.