Neel pushed apart the tall, wide golpata fronds. With a quick glance to make sure the bridge, path, and shore were still deserted, he switched the light on again and angled it against the bank. There it was! The entrance to a long, low open space that twisted through the foliage and led deep into the bank. The tunnel-like space was narrowed by many more roots and branches than the last time he’d been here, but it was still visible.
“We have to crawl in there?” Rupa asked.
“I’ll go first.”
Using the golpata branches for leverage, Neel hoisted himself into the open space. Thorns and roots clawed at him from the sides and above his head, tearing at his hair, skin, and the decoy mask still attached to the back of his head. The front of his body was covered with mud, but he managed to slither forward. Used to be more like a tunnel through this bank, he thought. Now it’s barely passable. Rupa climbed up behind him, and he could hear her mutter as her sari caught on the thorns. He wondered if her arms were getting as scratched as his.
The space narrowed even more as it cut deeper into the bank. The soil was dry now, completely out of reach of the water, except perhaps for when a tidal bore—a dangerous surge of water—rose suddenly after a storm and flooded the creek.
Neel kept kneeing and elbowing his way forward, steadying the flashlight as he pushed away branches and roots. “Look!” he called suddenly, aiming the light at a patch of soil just in front of him.
He leaned aside so Rupa could see, and heard the sharp intake of his sister’s breath. It was a tiny pugmark. And then another. There may have been others on the bank and in the space behind them, but they would have washed away with the ebb and flow of the tide.
Carefully Neel inched forward. If he was remembering correctly, they were almost to the cave carved deep into the muddy bank. Pushing through the last thorny bush that obstructed his way, Neel shone the light into the hollow.
He gasped.
White and black and orange-gold fur.
Glowing, round eyes rimmed with black.
She was there.
Ten
THE CUB WAS ON HER FEET, her back to the bank, staring unblinkingly into the flashlight. Her legs were short, her belly low to the ground. Two round ears, edged with white fur, twitched forward. Her golden nose quivered, tipped by a semicircle of black fur and two angled nostrils. Thin, white whiskers shimmered in the light, and a pink tongue poked out from above her white chin. A dazzling pattern of small black stripes was etched across her white-and-golden fur. Shrimp and crab shells were littered around the floor of the small cave. She must have ventured out to hunt during low tide and brought her prey back to eat in safety.
Rupa crawled forward as far as she could, leaning across her brother’s back. “It’s her,” she breathed. “It’s really her.”
They gazed at the beautiful creature for a long minute, and then Neel switched off the flashlight. Although the cub seemed startled, she didn’t look scared. But he couldn’t reach her with his hands; she was backed deep inside the cave, and his body wouldn’t fit beyond this spot as it had when he was younger. How could they lure her out?
“Will she come to us?” Rupa whispered.
“I don’t think so,” he whispered back, “but let’s see.”
“Try to sound like a mother tiger.”
“What? I don’t know how.”
“Do the best you can.”
There wasn’t enough room in the opening to turn around, so the two of them backed out feetfirst. Neel had never heard tigers firsthand, only people who had imitated them, but he tried calling to the cub with a low chuffing noise. Stopping for a minute, he strained to hear any movement from the cave, but no sound came.
“Keep going,” he whispered to Rupa, who had also stopped to listen.
They crawled back a bit farther, and Neel tried mewing, but that didn’t work either. The cub didn’t budge. He tried a combination of whimpering, mewing, and chuffing, stopping every now and then to listen. Complete silence from the cub—it was almost as if she were holding her breath until they left her alone.
“We need to bring back some milk,” he said finally, giving up. “Let’s go.”
Once they were back on the bank, Rupa smiled at her brother. “You found her, Neel. Nice work. But you certainly don’t speak tiger.”
“I’d like to hear you try it.” Neel glanced up at the bridge nervously. Still no one in sight, and no sound of footsteps. “What’s your plan to lure her out of there?”
Neel’s vest was still tucked into the waist of Rupa’s sari, and she yanked it out. Stooping, she dunked the vest in the pail of milk, soaked it for a minute, and then wrung it out loosely. “Let me go first this time. Bring the stick.” She wrapped the end of her sari around the milky vest. Then she draped the bundle across her back to keep it from getting muddy and hoisted herself into the tunnel again.
Crawling through the thorny passageway was easier this time because their bodies had broken a wider path. Neel slid the long stick up to his sister when they reached the hollow and shone the flashlight on her hands. Rupa managed to tie the milky vest to the end of the stick and then carefully pushed it deeper into the hollow until it was within the cub’s reach. Neel held his breath as his sister mewed, waited, mewed, and waited again. He had to admit that Rupa’s tiger imitation sounded better than his.
Rupa’s body was blocking most of his view, but to Neel’s amazement, he heard an answering mew, and then a soft sucking sound. The cub was drinking the milk from the vest! After a while, centimeter by centimeter, Rupa began to pull the stick out of the cave. Neel backed down to make room. But as soon as they moved, the sucking sound stopped.
“Isn’t she coming?” Neel asked anxiously.
“No! She’s staying against the back of the cave.”
Once again Rupa crawled forward and pushed the stick deep into the cave, offering the milky vest to the baby. The sucking began and kept going—the cub was obviously hungry—but stopped as soon as they moved backward. They tried the trick a third time, but still the cub wouldn’t come toward them. It was getting late; Neel wasn’t sure exactly how long they’d been in the tunnel, but the tide was probably already swelling the creek.
“We’ve got to get out,” he told his sister after she’d tried for a fourth time and failed again. “But we can’t leave her here.”
“I don’t know what else to do. She’s not coming. I’ll leave the vest so she gets used to our scent, and we’ll come back tomorrow.”
Quickly Rupa untied the vest from the stick and shoved it forward toward the cub. Neel was already backing down the passageway as fast as he could. His sister’s feet were keeping pace in front of him, but as they pushed through the golpata fronds, he gulped. The tide was even higher than he had anticipated. The pail was floating instead of standing, and they were going to have to wade through knee-high water to return to the shore.
Rupa grabbed the pail. They sloshed under the bridge to the shore. Neel didn’t bother to rub out their footprints as they climbed the lower half of the trail that sloped up the bank. The creek was rising fast, and any traces of their trek would be underwater soon. He did take the time to smear the mud on the upper part of the trail while his sister waited by the bridge.
“If only she had come out,” Neel said when he joined Rupa.
“She’s been safe there for days. At least we know she’s alive.”
He frowned. “For now, yes. But they might find her before we get the news to the rangers.”
“I know, but we can’t do anything more tonight.”
Dripping with salty water and covered with mud, they jogged home as fast as they could. Neel braced himself for the sound of footsteps, followed by a shout and then a chase. But Gupta’s men must indeed have been searching the other side of the island. There was neither sight nor sound of them.
“We’ll have to hide our dirty clothes,” Rupa whispered as they entered the quiet courtyard. Even the goats were asleep. “I’ll wash them t
omorrow.”
Baba wasn’t back yet. Rupa and Neel took turns at the pump, washing themselves off and changing into clean clothes. As his sister put away the stick, pail, and masks, Neel crawled wearily onto his mat. Just as he slipped into sleep, a rooster crowed. His last thought was of the cub, curled into the cave with his milky vest tucked beside her. He and Rupa had to get their news to the rangers before she was discovered.
Eleven
WHEN RUPA GREETED Neel after school the next day, he tossed his satchel in the corner of the hut and left it there. He wasn’t even going to pretend to study. How could anyone concentrate on geometry or algebra after seeing the beautiful face of that cub?
Ma wasn’t feeling quite as well today, so she was resting on her mat, and Baba was nowhere in sight. Neel helped Rupa finish her chores so they had time to sit in the shade of the sundari trees and hatch their next plan.
“We have to tell the rangers we found her,” Rupa said, her voice low. “But how do we get to the reserve?”
Baba had always used his nauka to ferry them from island to island. For the first time ever, we can’t ask him for transportation, Neel thought, but like his sister, he didn’t say it aloud. “Maybe we can borrow a nauka,” he said instead.
They ran through their list of relatives, but anyone in their extended family would wonder why they weren’t using Baba’s nauka. Besides, they’d ask questions, and Neel and Rupa didn’t want to tell anybody the truth. If their own father was going to hand the cub to Gupta, whom could they trust?
“I know!” Rupa cried. “We’ll borrow a cell phone and ring up the rangers.”
“Borrow a phone? From whom? Nobody’s going to let us make a call in private.”
“What about Ajay?” Rupa asked. “He can keep a secret.”
“Ajay’s father doesn’t own a nauka or a phone. He gets paid a teacher’s salary, remember?” Neel groaned. “And maybe he’d tell Gupta about the cub, too.”
They sat in silence for a few minutes.
“Can’t take the ferry,” Rupa said sadly. “We’d have to ask Baba for the fare.”
Now that they couldn’t count on their father’s help, their whole world felt washed away.
A light rain began to fall, and Rupa scurried to gather the dry clothes.
Neel ran to help, looking up at the sky. “Is it going to storm?”
“I hope not,” Rupa said. “Anyway, it’s not the season for cyclones.”
“The weather’s been so strange lately. And if a ban comes in . . .”
Neel didn’t finish his sentence. The cub had managed to swim across the channel in low tide, but a surge of high water could reach the cave and drown her. If a ban were on the way, they’d hear shouts from all sides: “ Ban! Ban! Tidal bore coming! Run for higher ground!” Could Neel and Rupa get to the cub before a big wave? I’d have to try, Neel thought. He pictured the cub’s golden eyes, trembling nose, and patterned fur. She was so far from her mother! And so alone! He couldn’t let a wave devour her, any more than he could let her be sold on the black market.
Rupa was following his thoughts. “At least let’s get her out of that cave,” she said. “Maybe we can hide her somewhere else until we get word to the rangers.”
“But where? She found the best hiding spot on the island all on her own.”
“Safe from people, maybe. But not from a ban. And the rain’s getting worse.”
Neel took a deep breath. “We have to get her out tonight and take her to the reserve in Baba’s nauka. Without asking him.”
“Is that right? Isn’t that like lying to him?”
“Well, what did we do last night, then?”
Rupa didn’t answer. There was nothing more to say. Saving the cub was the right thing—all Neel had to do was remember the cub’s markings, small paws, and shining whiskers. Baba, when you see her, you’ll understand! You’ll act like yourself again!
When dinnertime came, the rain was pouring. Baba returned, dried off, and sat down to eat. He didn’t wait for questions. “No sign of her,” he said gruffly as Rupa piled rice on his thali. “But I got paid for last night. Two more nights and we’ll have enough to pay for one tutoring session.”
Rupa and Neel carefully avoided looking at each other. If all went according to their plan, there would be only one more night of cub hunting. For all of them. They had to get that cub to safety tonight!
Twelve
AFTER DINNER the rain slowed, and Baba left without a word. Once Ma was asleep, Rupa and Neel armed themselves with the decoy masks, a flashlight, the long sundari stick, another unwashed shirt of Neel’s, and a pail of fresh milk, covered this time to protect it from the rain. Again they timed their arrival at the creek for when the tide would be low. The path around the island was slippery, but their feet were used to walking in mud. The rain made it harder to hear any sounds of pursuit, but at least the lack of moonlight would make them harder to spot.
They clambered down to the shore, made their way under the bridge, and reached the golpata trees without having to wade in the water. Rupa readied the milky shirt, dipping it in the pail three times.
“Bend over,” she said.
“Why?”
“You’re smaller than me,” she said. “If the cub comes toward you, you might be able to grab her.”
“Not much smaller,” Neel protested, but he obeyed his sister and felt her attaching the lure to his back.
“Keep still. Stay down.”
“What? Why? Hey!”
Rupa had lifted his decoy mask and poured milk across his shoulders and neck. It was dripping down his back and into his shorts. He straightened with a jolt, and some of it trickled into his shirt, which was already wet from rain.
She spread the last bit of milk on the top of his head and across his shirt. “Squeeze the milk into the cloth,” she said.
He did it quickly. The rain had stopped, and moonlight was breaking through the clouds. “Let’s go.”
As they pushed their way out through the golpata trees, Neel froze. Loud footsteps were clattering across the bridge. He pulled his sister behind the fronds, his heart pounding.
“What’s that?” a voice called from above, carrying across the ravine. It was Viju!
Neel heard his sister’s sharp intake of breath. She grabbed his hand.
“Where?”
“I see them! There, on the shore! Footprints.” Viju’s father!
“Those are our footprints. We searched there earlier, remember?” That was Baba’s voice!
Rupa’s hand clutched Neel’s tightly. Would Baba and his companions come down to the creek? They’d left the pail on the bank. Would the men spot it?
But gradually the voices merged into a low rumble and faded into the distance. Neel heard his sister exhale and felt her hand trembling in his before she let go. He couldn’t believe they were cowering from their own father—Baba, who had never lifted a hand against either of them! A wave of anger swept through him like a tidal bore. Gupta would never get that cub—not if he could help it! Squaring his shoulders, he turned and led the way into the underbrush. Would the cub still be there? Would she still be alive?
When they reached the entrance to the cave, Neel shone the light inside the hollow while his sister peered around his shoulder. A pair of startled eyes stared back at them. She was there! If only they could get her out this time!
The vest they’d left behind the night before was torn and dirty. When Neel extended the new lure, tied to the end of the sundari stick, the cub sucked hungrily at the milk-drenched shirt. After a short while, Neel motioned to Rupa to back out, but the cub didn’t follow. They went through the routine again. And again. But the cub stayed at the back of the cave, sucking the milk only when the shirt came close to her.
“Tide’s rising,” Rupa hissed. “We have to get her out!”
Neel thought hard. Then he handed his sister the flashlight, put his hand on the milky shirt, and pushed it as far forward as he could. Wedging his shoulders
inside the entrance to the cave, he used his feet to propel his hand and the shirt as deep into the cave as he could. He stretched both toward the cub. Come on, little girl, here I am. I won’t hurt you!
There was a silence. Neel’s body was blocking most of the light from the flashlight, so he couldn’t see anything. But then he heard the soft pad of paws and the sounds of sucking and—he could hardly believe it— felt a rough little tongue licking the milk off his knuckles. He kept his hand as still as he could. You know this smell, little one. It was on the shirt that stayed with you all night. Come on!
Bit by bit, he moved his hand back. The soft sounds of licking and padding paws didn’t stop. Soon, in the dim light that filtered in around his body, he glimpsed the tips of white whiskers. Next came a nose, just inches from his. And then a tongue, tasting his arm, his shoulders, and then—his cheek! Carefully, slowly, while the cub sucked the milk from his chin, Neel wrapped his arms around the tiny body. Gently he pulled her out of the cave into the tunnel.
His sister gasped. “Neel, she’s so beautiful!”
Neel forgot for a moment about Baba and Gupta’s men as he held the cub close. She nuzzled against him, still licking and pawing him. She wasn’t much heavier than a baby goat, and her face was so sweet that he kissed it.
“Let’s go, Neel,” Rupa said softly.
As they backed out of the tunnel, Neel realized that the hardest part was still ahead. Somehow they had to get the cub to Baba’s nauka without anyone catching them. And then row her to the reserve. It was going to take a miracle.
Thirteen
WHEN THEY REACHED the bank, the tide was already ankle-high. Moonlight shimmered across the creek. Carefully Rupa moved closer to Neel and reached out to stroke the tiny animal. The cub licked her hands, and she chuckled in delight. “She knows me!”
Tiger Boy Page 5
