Brave Tom; Or, The Battle That Won by Edward Sylvester Ellis (best chinese ebook reader .TXT) 📕

Jim Travers felt that he was lost. The women uttered cries of anguish, clasped their hands, and almost fainted.

Sometimes, however, a person instinctively does the best thing possible, when, if he took time for thought, he would do the worst.

The antipathy of wild beasts to fire is well known, but it must be remembered that the full degree of this terror is felt only during the darkness of night. The sun was in the horizon when the stirring events we have set out to narrate were going on.

When Jim came tumbling through the window, he held fast to the blazing torch, even while trying to save himself from falling. His dexterity enabled him to keep fair command of his limbs, and he bounded to his feet in a twinkling, at the moment when he expected Tippo Sahib to come down upon him like a clawing avalanche.

Then, instead of turning about and clambering back through the window (the surest means of inviting the attack of the beast), he uttered a shout, and, holding the torch in front, ran straight at the tiger!

It may be doubted whether the fiercest of wild creatures would have withstood such an assault. Even though the sun was shining, the tiger knew something of the meaning of that glowing brand. Wheeling about like a cat, he trotted off, turning his head from side to side, and frequently glancing at his pursuer.

His flight brought him into the field of vision of Tom Gordon up-stairs, who had been mystified to understand what was going on below.

"I'll finish him this time," was his conclusion, as he flung up the window, thrust the barrel of the weapon through, and dropped on one knee.

But it seemed as if fate held that particular royal Bengal tiger in its special keeping that day. Before Tom could make his aim certain, Jim Travers popped in front, so in line with the beast that the young marksman could not fire at one without risk of hitting the other.

"I daresen't do it," he decided, leaning his gun against the wall beside him; "I'm afeard of hitting Jim."

Although the latter had displayed an extraordinary degree of coolness at a critical point in the events, it must not be supposed that he possessed any unusual share of courage. It was his implicit faith in the blazing torch that inspired him to a daring that few men would have shown; but on the outside he lost his head.

He was hardly conscious of what he was doing when he sat off after the fleeing animal, and there's no saying what the end would have been, or rather there's no doubt that he would have feared ill, had not Tom called to him,--

"Come back, Jim! Your torch will soon go out, and then he'll have you sure!"

"Golly! that's so!" muttered Jim, stopping like a flash, and dashing for the house again; "I didn't think of that!"

Good Mrs. Gordon and Aunt Cynthia had recovered in a degree their senses. Unspeakably shocked by the peril of the youth, whose courage they estimated too highly, they shrank from no risk that could aid his final escape. They had not closed the shutter after his mishap, and, when they saw him wheel and run back, they stood by the window ready to receive him.

Jim Travers was a good runner; and when it is stated that he was certain Tippo Sahib was skurrying at his heels, it need not be added that he "surpassed himself" in the way of fleetness. Finding, after running a short way, that the beast was not after him, Jim flung aside the torch and went through the window like a cannon shot, rolling over and striking the other side of the room before his flight was checked. A lad of his years, however, rarely suffers from hard knocks and bumps, and he was on his feet the next moment.

"Shet the window quick!" he called, "or he'll be in here."

No need of the appeal, for the mother with deft fingers quickly secured the shutter as before; and but for the lamp, all would have been in darkness again.

Jim darted up-stairs to learn how his playmate was making out.

"Why don't you shoot, Tom?" he called, hurrying to his side.

"'Cause I don't see anything to shoot at," was the answer.

"What's become of the tiger?"

"I guess you scared him off."

Jim peeped cautiously out of the window.

"That's so; he isn't anywhere round, but he was out there a few minutes ago."

"So was you; but you aren't there now."

"I thought he chased me clean up to the winder."

"He didn't foller you a single step; when you struck out for the window, he stopped short and laughed ready to die to see you run."

"The tiger laughed at me!" exclaimed Jim angrily; "who ever heard of such a thing?"

"Well, he looked as though he wanted to laugh, and then trotted down the road; I seen him jump over the fence and make for the woods."

"That's where he's gone! I guess I'll go home now, while I have the chance."

"Better wait, Jim, till you're sure he isn't round."

Jim followed this sensible advice, staying to supper, to which he was always welcome.

The women had received so great a shock, that they could not recover from it as quickly as the volatile youngsters. The shutters and doors were kept fastened, and every few minutes they peeped out in quest of the tiger that showed so much enmity toward them. When darkness closed in, however, not the first glimpse had been caught of him, and all began to hope he had taken his final departure. Mrs. Gordon gave her consent that Jimmy Travers should start homeward; and, promising to keep a sharp lookout for the creature, he departed. It may as well be added that he saw nothing more of Tippo Sahib, nor did the animal pay any visit to his home.

"Helloa! the house there!"

This was the startling summons that rang out in the stillness of the night, about two hours after the departure of Jimmy Travers. Mrs. Gordon stepped to the door, and with some misgiving drew it open. The full moon was shining brightly, and she saw two horsemen who had halted in the highway opposite the gate.

"Good-evening!" said the spokesman, lifting his hat in salutation when he observed the woman; "have you seen anything of a strange animal in this neighborhood, madam? We have traced him almost to this spot, but have lost track of him."

"Do you refer to the tiger that escaped from the menagerie this afternoon?"

"That's the animal we're looking for."

"Yes; he was here late in the afternoon, and tried to jump through the window."

"Did he hurt any one?" asked the man in alarm.

"No; we did not receive a scratch. My son shot him."

"What!" exclaimed the other; "did he kill the animal?"

"Oh, no," answered Mrs. Gordon (who was joined by Aunt Cynthia and Tom), smiling at the fear of the visitors; "my boy is quite young, and isn't much of a marksman; he thinks he hit the beast"--

"And I did too," interjected the lad, not pleased with this slur upon his skill with the gun.

"Possibly he did; but he was not injured much."

"I am glad to learn that. The tiger is one of the most valuable animals we have in the menagerie; I should be very sorry to lose him."

"But," interposed Aunt Cynthia, "it may become necessary to shoot him in self-defense."

"Not likely; he is not apt to injure any one if he is let alone."

Tom had not forgotten the appalling stories told by Jim Travers on his arrival from the exhibition.

"I heered he chawed up Sam Harper, Jack Habersham, Bill Dunham, and a whole lot of folks that was at the circus."

The laughter of the two horsemen was hearty.

"Those youngsters are alive and well. The boy who punched the tiger in the eye, and caused all this rumpus, was knocked down and scratched somewhat, but not half as much as he deserved. No one else, so far as we can learn, has been injured; though, as I remarked just now, Tippo Sahib will fight if he is driven into a corner."

"He tried to jump through our window," said Aunt Cynthia.

"Before or after you fired at him?"

"Afterward."

"I suppose it was caused by the hullabaloo of the people, frightened out of their wits. It is the same as when a hue and cry is raised about a dog. If he isn't mad, he will soon become so. But, madam, we are very anxious to secure the animal before he is killed or seriously injured. We will pay a good reward for his recapture."

"How much?" asked Tom, to the surprise of his relatives.

"One hundred dollars to any one who will secure him without injury, or fixes it so we can recapture him. May I ask where the tiger seemed to be going when you last saw him?"

"The last we seen of him," replied Tom, "he was cutting 'cross the field toward the woods over yonder."

Thanking the boy and the ladies for their information, the horsemen rode off, soon disappearing up the highway.

The fact that these men, experienced in their knowledge of wild animals, were searching for the escaped tiger, naturally lifted much of the fear of the beast from the hearts of the Gordon family. They believed