“Of course, everybody’s interested!” exclaimed Melissa. “You’ve made the area safe again. You’re a hero, Bob!” And impulsively, she leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. “A kiss for the victor!” she announced dramatically. Bob stared at her for a moment, then grinned.
“I can see I’ll have to go and shoot a few more tigers,” he chuckled. But he gazed directly at Melissa, an intense searching look that she returned brazenly.
Dennis gave an embarrassed cough.
“Ahem! Perhaps ah … Harry Sullivan might know some skinners. Now where did he go to?”
“I think he’s over there talking to his amah’s grandson,” said Kate, smiling at her husband’s discomfort.
“Mr. Sullivan’s here?” said Bob in surprise. “Well, that’s a surprise!”
“Why?” enquired Kate.
“Oh well … it’s just that he doesn’t like me very much, Mrs. Tremayne.”
“Indeed? Why over not?”
Bob shrugged.
“Your guess is as good as mine.”
“I must say, I hadn’t expected him to agree to come along,” said Melissa. “Perhaps he’s decided to bury the hatchet.…”
“Yeah. In the back of my neck, no doubt!”
“Oh, I’m sure it’s not as bad as all that, Mr. Beresford.”
Dennis swivelled around, shielding his eyes with the palm of his hand, while he scanned the crowd. After a few moments, he spotted Harry talking earnestly to Ché, but the boy hardly seemed to be listening to him. Suddenly, a group of children raced past and Ché took off after them, leaving Harry in mid-sentence. The old man gazed after him, a reproachful expression on his face. Then he shook his head sadly.
“Harry! Come over here! You haven’t seen the tiger yet!” Dennis beckoned energetically and Harry glanced up in surprise, as if he had forgotten all about his main reason for coming here. Then he forced a smile, came trudging slowly over. It was quite plain that he was upset about something. As he reached the outer edge of the crowd, it seemed to part magically to let him through, a modern-day Moses passing between the waves of a human sea.
“That’s Harry,” thought Dennis, with a smile. “The rest of us have to push a way through, but for Harry everybody moves aside.”
“Hello there, Mr. Sullivan. Come and take a look at this little beauty!” Bob stood up, as if making an involuntary sign of respect to the old hunter. He watched as Harry stooped to examine the kill. The old man crouched in silence for a few moments, gazing fixedly at the long striped carcass. His silence communicated itself to the rest of the crowd. Everybody, it seemed, was waiting for his blessing. After a little while, the tension became unbearable and Dennis prompted him.
“Well, what do you think Harry? A fine specimen, wouldn’t you say?”
“Beautiful,” murmured Harry, his voice barely more than a whisper. “Beautiful…” Abruptly, he snapped his head up and glared at Bob. “You bloody fool,” he said coldly.
Bob’s jaw dropped open, and he took a step back as though struck in the face. Clearly even he had not expected such a hostile reaction.
“Now just a minute, Mr. Sullivan! I’m getting a bit damned tired of being victimized like this. Why, only the other day you told me this cat ought to be shot, to put it out of its misery … and that was before it turned man-eater.…”
Harry sighed. He glanced briefly around the circle of shocked faces on either side of him. Then he returned his gaze to Bob.
“You’re quite correct, Mr. Beresford, I did say that. And I meant it. You may also recall that I checked out some pugmarks for you and … correct me if I’m wrong here … I gave you a fairly concise description of the … ‘man-eater’ as you like to call him.”
“Well, yeah, of course I remember…”
Harry nodded slowly.
“Would you like to explain to me then, Mr. Beresford, how it is that you’ve managed to go out and shoot the wrong tiger?”
“The what?”
“The wrong tiger, Mr. Beresford. The cat that we tracked that day was around fifteen to twenty years old and had a wound in its right forepaw. This cat is barely in its prime, it must be four years old at the most. I don’t see any evidence of a wound in the leg, do you?”
Bob just stood there, his mouth open, staring down at the tiger. It had never for one moment occurred to him that another cat might be in the area.
“But—” he managed to blurt out. “I…”
Harry held up one of the creature’s front paws for inspection.
“You may also remember that the cat’s pugs showed that his front feet were splayed out and badly scarred. Does that look like it might be capable of making such tracks? Well, does it? Good God, man, didn’t you even think to look?”
Bob gestured helplessly with his hands.
“It must be the man-eater! I mean, it came down to take the bait … it just has to be … otherwise…”
“Otherwise you’ve shot a beautiful rare animal that has caused no harm to anybody. Well, Mr. Beresford, that is exactly what you’ve done. I hope you feel very proud of your efforts.”
“Uncle Harry, leave him alone!” Everyone turned to stare at this unexpected outburst from Melissa. “Why, I’ve never seen such out-and-out jealousy in my life! You’re just fed up because Bob’s managed to do something that you’re no longer capable of!”
“Melissa,” Kate cautioned. “I don’t think that’s entirely fair.…”
“To hell with what’s fair! Everybody’s so afraid of hurting Uncle Harry’s feelings, but it clearly doesn’t work the other way around, does it? He’s been picking on Bob ever since he found out what a good hunter he is. Well I’m not afraid to say what I think, even if everybody else is.”
Harry gazed at her for several moments, his eyes narrowing down to slits.
“You silly girl,” he said calmly. “I’m not victimizing anyone. Don’t you understand? He’s shot the wrong animal. That isn’t the man-eater, it’s just some poor brute that happened to wander in the wrong direction.”
“Well, what does it matter which tiger it is? It’s still a perfectly good trophy, isn’t it?”
“Well, of course it matters.” Harry raised his eyes heavenwards. “Have you any idea how effective the grapevine is around here? By now, everybody will have heard that the man-eater is dead. So people aren’t going to worry about strolling about on jungle roads in the middle of the night, are they? The next thing you know, there’ll be another victim announced.…”
“I still say you’re just trying to find fault,” persisted Melissa.
“And besides,” added Bob. “For all we know, the tracks we found under my machan might have belonged to another tiger that was just … passing by. I don’t see any reason why this shouldn’t be the killer. All we’ve got to go on is the word of an old man who hasn’t been hunting for over ten years. What makes you so sure you know better than anybody else, Mr. Sullivan?”
Harry’s body suddenly went rigid, his facedrained of colour. When he spoke again, his voice shuddered with emotion.
“Mr. Beresford. I have had some considerable experience of so-called man-eating tigers. I have shot them on six different occasions, and in each case the cat was either very old or wounded in some way. Now you can believe me or disbelieve me, just as you wish, but I tell you, sir, that this poor devil is not the man-eater that you set out to shoot; not that I think it matters overmuch to you anyway, because people of your creed regard one dead brute to be just as good as the next. Furthermore, Mr. Beresford, I think you have a moral obligation to inform the local villagers that you have made a mistake. Otherwise, the next death will be on your conscience. One more thing. You probably like to think of yourself as a sportsman, but it’s quite obvious to me that you don’t know the meaning of the word.…”
“Now look here, you silly old bastard!…”
Bob broke off in alarm as Harry stepped impulsively forward and brought his hand across the Australian’s face in an unexpected
powerful slap. Bob reeled back with an oath and Dennis rushed forward to stop any escalation; but it was not needed, for Harry turned smartly on his heel and strode away through a shocked and silent crowd. The others stared after him in amazement.
“Well of all the…” Bob massaged his stinging cheek. “I ought to go over there and knock his head in. I would if he wasn’t old enough to be my father!”
“Are you all right?” cried Melissa anxiously.
Kate smothered a smile.
“I’m sure Mr. Beresford is still in one piece, dear,” she murmured.
Dennis scratched his head.
“Well, whatever got into the poor fellow?”
“I don’t know dear, but hadn’t we better go after him?”
“Er … yes, I suppose we had. Melissa?”
“Oh, I don’t think I want to face him at the moment, Daddy. I’ll stay on here a while. I’m sure Bob will give me a lift home later on…”
“Uh … yeah, sure, if you like.” Bob shrugged, turned away, mumbling to himself. Kate gazed thoughtfully at her daughter for a moment. Her eyes said, “We’ll talk about this later, my girl!” but her mouth said, “Good-bye, dear. We’d better get after Uncle Harry before he wrecks the entire village.”
“Whatever can be wrong with him?” sighed Melissa.
“I wonder…” Kate smiled. “Well, good-bye Mr. Beresford. I hope next time we meet it will be under pleasanter circumstances. Come along, Dennis.” The two of them edged their way through the crowd in the direction that Harry had taken. The villagers, having quickly recovered from their shock, were now all talking excitedly about the incident.
“It’s not like old Harry to fly off the handle,” murmured Dennis.
“It was Melissa’s fault; she shouldn’t have turned on him that way. There was a time when she would never have dreamed of doing such a thing.”
“She’s interested in Beresford, that’s all.”
“Hmm. Well, I’m not sure I approve of her choice.”
“Oh, for God’s sake, don’t you start! What’s wrong with the poor fellow?”
Kate frowned. “It’s hard to say … but I got a certain impression about him. I think Harry was right when he said that Mr. Beresford regarded one dead tiger as being just as good as another. He didn’t shoot that cat because it was a man-eater, but for the glory of it. He was obviously enjoying all that attention.…”
“Well, perhaps, perhaps … but really, Kate, people have been shooting tigers around here for centuries.…”
“Well, then perhaps it’s time they stopped. Oh look, there he is!”
Harry was standing beside Dennis’ car, leaning on the roof as if to support himself. His head was bowed and his shoulders seemed to be heaving. Fearing that the old man was suffering another attack similar to the one he had experienced at the tennis club, Dennis ran forward and grabbed Harry by the arm. Harry glanced up in surprise and Dennis could see quite clearly, two trails of moisture running down Harry’s cheeks.
“Here, here now … let me get the car open.…” Dennis was flustered. He had never seen his friend so openly displaying emotion.
“No, I’m alright, really.” Harry straightened up, dashed at his eyes with his sleeve as Kate approached. He cleared his throat awkwardly.
“Silly of me. Shouldn’t have lost my temper like that.” He ran one hand through his hair in exasperation. “Damned idiot Beresford, you can’t tell him anything. He’ll discover soon enough, when that tiger gets hungry again.…”
He quietened as Kate took his hand in hers and squeezed it gently.
“I feel I should apologize about Melissa,” she told him. “She had absolutely no cause to go for you like she did.”
Harry forced a smile.
“Children are different these days,” he said. “So strong-willed. It’s perfectly alright. I’m sure when she’s had a chance to think about it, she’ll see that I was right.…”
But Kate thought to herself.
“She’s not a child anymore, Harry. She may act like one, but she’s not.”
Harry sighed.
“Well … after all that excitement, I could use a drink!” He was trying to sound hearty, but it was somehow unconvincing. “What say we go back to my house for a cold beer?”
“Yes, why not?” replied Dennis. He glanced at Kate, and she nodded wordlessly. Dennis fumbled for his keys and unlocked the car. The three of them got inside. The car had been standing in direct sunlight for some time and it was rather like climbing into a large metal oven. They wound all the windows down and turning the car around, Dennis headed back to the coast road. Harry lapsed into a sombre silence and neither Kate nor Dennis could think of anything that might distract him from his present mood. Consequently, it was a long and uncomfortable drive back to their destination.
* * *
THE SMALL CAVE was cool and comforting, a welcome respite from the fierce heat of the day. Haji felt much stronger now and he had come here with the intention of napping, but the incidents of the previous night still troubled him, as a succession of vague images. He remembered that he had lain in the bushes, while the storm exploded all around him, hungry but as yet too nervous to go out and reclaim his kill. Then, from the bushes on the other side of the clearing, his archenemy had emerged, moving towards Haji’s kill with the bold, aggressive stride of the victor. He had seen Haji, lying up in the grass ahead and now he was going to brazenly snatch the old tiger’s food away from under his nose. But then there had been the roar of a black stick, and the young tiger had whirled up beneath the rain to die in the tall grass. Terrified, Haji had slunk down into the deepest cover of the bushes and from there, he had watched as an Upright descended from the tree and had performed some kind of gleeful dance around his victim. Later, more Uprights had arrived and cutting down some stout logs, they had bound the dead tiger between them and in the newfound silence after the storm, they had carried the body away, whooping and shrieking their triumph to the treetops.
Still afraid, Haji had stayed put for another hour before at last, cautiously emerging and making his way over to the kill for a belated supper. And behold, the strangest mystery of all! For the kill was no longer the kill, just a tasteless piece of Upright’s skin filled with dead jungle, and the long wait had all been for nothing. And that would have been the end of the story for Haji, but for an unexpected slice of good fortune. Slinking dejectedly away along a cattle track, Haji had come face to face with a young tapir who had somehow got separated from his parents in the confusion of the storm. Not even possessing the sense to run away, he just stood there, bawling pitifully, until Haji’s great jaws closed around his throat. The calf had provided just enough meat for a sumptuous late night repast; after which, Haji sought out a favourite resting place, where he was able to stretch out and reflect upon his good fortune. The Upright had unwittingly been of great help to Haji. No longer would he be forced to leave his home territory. With the outsider eliminated, the range was now returned to its original owner. The usurper’s rule had been brief but eventful and if nothing else, had taught Haji how easy it was to turn his attention to the new, slower game that would feed him through his declining years. Though in many ways he still feared the Uprights, he had tasted them now and knew that they were good to eat. He would not hesitate to take another should the opportunity present itself. Meanwhile, he would rest and allow his strength to return. For the moment, he was well-fed and there was no need to hunt.…
In the reassuring coolness of the cave, Haji stretched out and let his head rest on his paws, while out in the jungle, the afternoon sun burned down with relentless ferocity. He slept and dreamed of Uprights.
CHAPTER 15
IT WAS late afternoon and the shadows were lengthening rapidly. Bob Beresford’s Land Rover sped along the coast road, its engine growling a noisy protest at the rough treatment being administered to it. Sitting in the passenger seat, her long hair streaming back in the wind, Melissa clung grimly to the dashboard and
tried to think of something interesting to say. She glanced slyly across at Bob, who was hunched over the wheel, his gaze intent on the way ahead. Melissa wondered if he always drove like a maniac or if he was simply trying to impress her. She hoped for the latter, but somehow, suspected the former to be true. She glimpsed a glitter of metal beneath the open collar of his khaki shirt and for an instant, she could see the bullet-shaped medallion that Victoria Lumly had mentioned. This provided her with a chance to strike up a conversation.
“What an interesting necklace!” She reached forward to examine it.
“Yeah. Present from my old man. He always wore it when he was out huntin’. Sort of good luck charm…”
He swerved the Land Rover recklessly around a tight bend and for the first time, he noticed the look of alarm on Melissa’s face. He grinned apologetically, dropped down to a more reasonable speed.
“Sorry … I suppose I’m just a bit anxious to get back to the tiger. That feller I left to guard it, I don’t really know…” He shrugged. “I guess I won’t relax until the bugger’s skinned and hung on my wall.’
“You’ve done very well,” she reassured him. “I’m just sorry about all that fuss with Uncle Harry.” She sighed. “Jealousy can be a terrible thing.”
“How come you call him uncle? He’s not really related, is he?”
“No. Just a good friend really. I’ve known him since I was a little girl. The sad thing is, he’s old now and he can’t do the things he used to. It’s not really surprising that he’s so crotchety.”
Bob nodded. “Saw the same thing happen to my father,” he told her. “It’s sad, but you know, there’s nothing you can do. Mind you … I keep wondering about what he said. He certainly seemed to know what he was talking about when he tracked for me. Supposing the man-eater isn’t dead? I can’t help wondering if I ought to spread the word for everyone to take care … just in case…”
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