01 Amazon Adventure

by Willard Price

  Hal approached the entrance cautiously. He

  drew his revolver but hoped fervently that he would not have to use it. One death struggle with a tiger was enough.

  He peered into the darkness. He could see nothing and could hear no growling, nor even breathing. But there was a strong animal smell. Perhaps the cave was deep and the tigers were far back.

  The men carried a net of strong manila rope, and this Hal placed over the mouth of the cave. It completely covered the opening. The four corners were staked to the face of the bank — but very lightly, so that the plunging of the tiger into the net would tear them loose. Hal made fast a heavy line to each corner. At a distance of ten feet these four lines were joined and braided to form a single heavy cable which went up over a branch of a tree and down again within reach.

  If a tiger ran out into the net the four corners would come loose and close in on the animal. Then everybody would haul on the rope which passed over the branch and down to the net. Shut inside the net, the tiger would be lifted clear of the ground. There the beast would be quite helpless. After it had spent its fury, it might be manoeuvred into the cage, net and all. The door would be locked. Then the net could be eased off and pulled out through the slats.

  Hal had read all about it in a book.

  Four men were placed on duty at the end of the rope. Every four hours they were relieved by another squad. The two times when something was most likely to happen were sunset and sunrise. It is then that the jaguar prefers to go out to drink at the river or a waterhole.

  All day Hal and his men were on watch and after the sun had gone down the suspense was hard to bear. Nothing happened. The net napped idly in the evening breeze. The jungle animals started their evening chorus, but there was no sound from the cave. Hal was disgusted.

  ‘I will show you another way to get el tigre,’ Aqua said. ‘Come down to the river.’

  Hal was glad of a change. He left four men on duty at the cave and went with Aqua. They waded out to the skiff. Taking up the anchor, they rowed the boat well away from the camp. Aqua rummaged in the toldo and brought out another net.

  Then he produced his steer horn and put it to his mouth. Hal thought that no tiger could have made a better tiger call.

  ‘On nights like this when the river is smooth,’ Aqua said, ‘el tigre likes to go swimming. A tigre in the water is easier to catch. He is too busy swimming to fight.’

  Again and again he called. Hours passed. Hal was cold and sleepy. He had always supposed that hunting a tiger would be the most exciting sport in the world. He was bored. He longed for his hammock and a heavy blanket.

  ‘I think he Lb coming,’ whispered Aqua, and Hal shook off his drowsiness. Somewhere between the boat and shore, grunts sounded of a sort that could not come from a crocodile. Aqua called again. There were more grunts or coughs, half-smothered by water.

 
  Then Hal could see something swimming. He kept perfectly still. Now he could make out a tiger’s head, but it was small. His hands tightened on the net as he made ready to throw it.

  The swimmer paused, as if uncertain. Aqua called again, very softly. It must have been good tiger language, for the tiger came on.

  Hal was not sleepy now. He tingled all over with excitement. He realized too late that he had not given enough thought to his plan of campaign. He had placed too much confidence in Aqua.

  Suppose they caught the tiger in the net — then what?

  He had no time to figure this out, for the tiger was now beside the boat. The top of its head showed above the water, also the tip of its tail. By reaching out, Hal could grab that tail.

  He had a sudden inspiration. His arm shot out and he seized the tail.

  ‘Row, Aqua, row!’ He heaved upwards on the tail, sinking the tiger’s head in the water. ‘Row like mad!’

  Aqua leaped on the oars and pulled. Hal braced himself and held on. A gurgling roar sounded from somewhere under the surface. The tiger was dragged along by its tail. It thrashed about savagely but could not get its head forward nor its front paws up. Much of the time the head was under water. The animal was, in fact rapidly being drowned. It stopped struggling. Now it was a dead weight. Hal called to Aqua and they lifted it into the boat. This was not too hard, for it was a small animal — weighing not more than eleven stone.

  They laid it on the net. Even in the dim light they could see that it was a beautiful animal, a real prize. Hal hoped they had not thoroughly drowned it. He cautiously felt for the heart — it was still beating.

  He wondered if he should apply first aid. It wasn’t necessary to decide this question, for the tiger stirred.

  Hal jumped to his feet. ‘Quick! Close the net!’ They brought up the edges of the net and lashed them together. It was none too soon. The tiger was growling now and striking out feebly. She would spend the next few hours trying to get out of that net, but she was as safe as a kitten in a bag. They fastened the net to the mast.

  That’ll do until morning. Then we’ll make a cage for her.’

  Hal was not satisfied. The little tiger was valuable, but he still wondered what was in that cave.

  When nothing came out at dawn, he decided to go in and investigate.

  He held a revolver in one hand and a pole in the other. Near the end of the pole, but not at the very end, was strapped a flashlight.

  If he found a tiger he hoped to confuse it with the light, prod it with the pole, and make it run out into the net.

  He walked slowly back into the cave, playing the light before him. The cave was deep and twisted off to the left. As he came to the turn he heard a low growl in the darkness. He began to wish he had stayed out in the sun.

  He moved the light beam here and there but could see nothing, nothing but two bright spots. Then he realized that the two spots were eyes. Another growl made him feel cold.

  In vain he tried to pick up the rest of the body with his light. Surely he could see a brilliant yellow skin with black marks. But there seemed to be nothing but those two burning eyes. Again came a challenging growl.

  Hal reminded himself that a wild animal usually does not attack unless it is cornered. He must be careful not to corner this one.

  He went far over to the right wall so that the beast might escape along the left side. The cave was wide and there was plenty of room for it to get by without coming near him. Then it would rush out and they would have a big tiger in the net.

  He knew it must be big by the deepness of the growl and the distance between the eyes. But he was greatly puzzled because he could not see the rest of the animal. There appeared to be nothing around those eyes but black cave.

  He waited, but the tiger did not move. Hal crept forward, close to the wall. He still hoped the beast would not insist upon being prodded.

  It was no use. The closer he came the louder the growls, but the beast did not stir.

  Or was it stirring? Yes, the eyes moved now. They were moving towards Hal. This would not do. Hal shouted, but the eyes came on.

  He fired into the wall to alarm the beast. He could have fired between those eyes but he was still resolved to get this one alive. He crowded against the wall. Why didn’t the animal run past him and out into the net?

  The end of the pole struck something hard between the two eyes. Hal could see it now — it was the face of a black jaguar. His heart leaped. This was the greatest animal treasure of the Amazon jungle. Black jaguars were as rare as hen’s teeth. He could not think of a zoo that had one — or of a zoo that did not want one and would not pay handsomely for it.

  No matter what happened he would not use his revolver. He slipped it into the holster. He put both hands to the pole and gave the tiger a manful jab on the left cheek, hoping to divert the beast to the other side of the cave and out into the net.

  He might as well have jabbed a rock. The tiger took two more prods without seeming to notice them. Then he swiped the pole with one big paw. The pole was smashed into splinters against the wall and the
light went out. A deafening roar filled the cave. Hal turned and fled.

  Around the turn he went with the vengeful beast close behind. No Olympic runner could have beat Hal Hunt then. With a flying leap he plunged into the middle of the net. He prayed that he would hit it with enough force so that it would break loose and not bounce him back into the savage jaws.

  The net did break loose. The men at the rope had heard the roar and they were ready. As something, they did not know what, struck the net they hauled.

  Up went the net like a bag with Hal inside. The astonishment of the crew who had bagged a man

  instead of a tiger can be imagined. They were speechless with surprise, and then they laughed. How they laughed! The tiger halted at the mouth of the cave and then retreated into the darkness.

  Hal would have given anything to be on the other side of the globe at that moment. The men’s hilarious laughter made him feel pretty small. It didn’t help much that his own brother, Roger, laughed more loudly than anyone else. He rolled on the ground, kicking the dust, and screaming with joy. When he could speak again he said, ‘Oh boy! Won’t this be a good one to tell when we get home!’

  Dangling from his branch, Hal said gruffly, ‘Let me down.’

  The men were too merry to be careful. Paying out the rope, they neglected to hold tight — it slipped through their hands and down Hal came, in a heap. This did not help to soothe his pride. He pushed the net away from him and got up. He stepped out of the net with great dignity.

  ‘Ho, ho! The great tiger man!’ chortled Roger.

  Hal looked about at the laughing faces. His nerves had been badly shaken but he was getting control of them now. After all, it must have been pretty funny. He grinned.

  ‘Too bad you didn’t have a camera, Roger,’ he said. ‘That was sure one for the book.’

  But his thoughts were grimly fixed upon the magnificent creature in the cave. He was going to get that tiger!

  Chapter 22

  Black Beauty

  It was a council of war.

  Hal, Roger and Aqua were trying to decide how to capture the black beauty. They were not getting very far.

  ‘We’ve got to nab it,’ Hal said. ‘It’s the last word in tigers. Even a Bengal tiger isn’t worth as much. But the net idea won’t work with this big fellow. He’s too wise.’

  Aqua was stirring up some bird-lime. He had made it from the juice of the breadfruit tree. It was more sticky than thick paste or flypaper.

  The Indians used it to catch birds. They would smear some of it on the limb of a tree where birds were in the habit of alighting. A bird that came in contact with it could not get away. When it beat its wings, they too would be caught. It stayed there until the hunter came for it.

  Aqua had been using the method to catch birds for some of the hungry animal passengers.

  Suddenly he paused and stared at Hal. An idea was breaking in the Indian’s head. He pointed at the bird-lime.

  ‘This will catch the tiger,’ he said.

  Hal laughed incredulously. ‘It’s good for birds — and perhaps monkeys — but you might as well try to stop a tiger with a bottle of mucilage.’

  ‘This will catch the tiger,’ Aqua repeated. ‘All our people use it.’

  He called in some of the other Indians as witnesses. They nodded when he explained his idea and told stories of how they or their friends had captured the big cats with bird-lime.

  Hal thought he was being kidded. Perhaps the men had not forgotten what a ridiculous figure he had cut hanging from a branch in a bag. They thought they could make a fool of him. And yet Aqua had always been respectful before this.

  Well, if it was a bluff, he would call their bluff.

  ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘You and the boys can go ahead and catch Black Beauty with bird-lime.’

  Aqua leaped up and talked excitedly with the other Indians. They went to gather more of the sticky substance. They took it to the tiger trail at a point a few hundred feet from the cave.

  They took the net that had trapped Hal and laid it on the trail. They covered it carefully with leaves so that it was not visible. They spread great quantities of bird-lime on the leaves. Then they scattered more leaves on top.

  ‘Now all we have to do is to wait,’ said Aqua.

  Wait, wait! Animal collecting was nine-tenths waiting. Hal hung his hammock in the woods within easy earshot of the trail. Aqua slept nearby. They alternated watches through the night. They heard no tiger.

  In the morning they crept to the trail and found an agouti caught in the lime. The agouti is a two-foot-long rodent.

  Hal was disgusted. He was about to tear the animal loose when Aqua said, ‘Leave it there. It will draw el tigre.’

  A low growl made them wheel about.

  At the mouth of the cave stood the most splendid of jaguars. He was black as night, sleek, long and powerful. His yellow eyes blazed. His savage black face parted in a snarl that showed gleaming white teeth. He looked quite capable of carrying out the

  reputation that the black jaguar has among the Indians of being the most ferocious of the cat tribe.

  He had been cooped up in the cave long enough. He was about to go to the river for a drink of water and anyone who got in his way would be unlucky.

  Hal was about to take to the woods, but Aqua said, ‘No. He might come after us. That would take him away from the lime.’

  Instead of going into the woods, Aqua ran down the trail, Hal following. Now the snare was between them and the tiger. They were, like the agouti, tiger bait.

  The huge black beast came padding down the trail. It was wonderful that an animal so heavy could move with such smooth grace. Within that glossy pelt there must be nearly thirty stone of bone and muscle.

  Hal, remembering his encounter with the black monster in the cave, did not welcome another interview. He was distinctly uncomfortable. What if Aqua’s plan did not work? Suppose the beast merely walked through the bird-lime and came on?

  Was this powerful brute going to be stopped by a little stickum?

  The tiger’s pace quickened. He broke from a walk into a well-oiled run, his glossy shoulders moving like pistons. If Hal had not been scared to death he would have admitted that it was the loveliest movement of muscle he had ever seen.

  Why didn’t the beast pay attention to the agouti? He seemed to look straight past it at the two men. Hal felt very foolish, standing in plain view, waiting for a tiger to pounce upon him. And he hated that low, vicious growl. He would rather hear the beast roar. But the tiger was not wasting his breath on roars.

  He was now almost up to the snare. Suddenly the agouti caught his eye and he stopped dead. He crouched to the ground. For a full minute he lay there, little black ripples moving along his muscles as he tensed them.

  Then he sprang.

  What a leap it was, all of a dozen feet. In mid air he roared, and his roar shook the forest. He came down like a black avalanche upon the helpless agouti and seized it by the neck.

  But instantly he let it go. His attention was attracted by the stuff under his feet.

  Now, thought Hal, we shall see if bird-lime can hold a tiger. No, Aqua was wrong. The tiger was now lifting one foot. It was covered with white. Then he raised another paw and looked at it with surprise.

  Hal had had enough of this. ‘See!’ he cried. ‘It isn’t holding him. Come on. Let’s get out of here.

  But Aqua put a hand on his arm. ‘Wait. You do not understand. Watch.’

  The tiger was trying to lick the stuff off his paw. It did not come off. He bit at it savagely. He got it smeared over his face. He tried to rub it from his face. He only succeeded in plastering it over his eyes. He lay down in order to get the use of his four paws. Now the strange stuff was all over one flank. He tried to get it off and only succeeded in making matters worse.

  Now Hal understood. His grandmother had told him of the old custom of putting butter on a cat’s paws to keep it busy until it became used to a new home. The cat was s
o fully occupied that it had no time to worry about anything else.

  And so the tiger was not worrying now about the agouti or the two men. He was a cat with only one idea — to get rid of that gum. Cats of all kinds like to be clean.

  Roger and some of the Indians arrived in time to see the strange spectacle. The tiger saw them out of smeared eyes and gave them a few growls; then went back to licking and biting at his fur. He sat up on his haunches and began washing his face with his paws, exactly like a house cat.

  ‘I think we can take him now,’ Aqua said.

  He had the Indians bring up the cage. He passed the net rope through the front door and out between the slats. Then he drew gently on the rope, making tension on the four lines that went to the four corners of the net. The other men laid hold to help him.

  ‘Slowly, slowly,’ he said.

  The far edge of the net draped itself lightly over the tiger. The beast was drawn inch by inch into the cage. His own struggles helped. Every time he moved any part of his body in the right direction the net was tightened so that he could not move back. At last both the net and its sticky contents were inside the cage. The door was locked. The prisoner took his mind off his work long enough to make a few thrusts at the bars, and then went back to his task.

  ‘He’ll be doing that for a week,’ Aqua said. ‘He won’t stop until he gets every bit of it off his fur.’

  The tiger paid no heed to anything but bird-lime as the cage, set on two long poles, was carried down to the river. The Ark was brought up and the cage was hoisted on the deck and set in the toldo. The agouti, which one of the Indians had cut loose from the net, was served for dinner.

  Hal beamed with delight and went around congratulating everybody, even Banco. He owed a special debt of gratitude to Aqua. This exploit had crowned the expedition with success.

  Well, almost. He still wanted an anaconda. And he still had to escape Croc, get the collection down river, and on board a steamer for home.

  But he was so happy that nothing seemed very difficult now.