At that moment the long-drawn, moaning howl of a tiger broke the deep stillness of the forest, the sound apparently coming from some spot almost vertically above their heads; and the three Sakai listened, shuddering, while their teeth chattered. Laish had caught a glimpse of the great striped body gliding with stealthy speed through the sparse jungle near the summit of the hill, and this had sufficed to send him floundering down the slope in precipitate flight.
The three Sakai were silent, straining their ears to listen above the noise of Semi-pak's agonized sobs for breath. A moment later the howl broke out once more, a little farther to the left this time, and it was quickly followed by a scream such as only a human being could utter. Then again there was silence— silence desolate and miserable during which the tapping of a woodpecker could be distinctly heard. Then in an instant the whole jungle seemed to have been invaded by all the devils in hell. Every mem- ber of the little band of fugitives was sounding the danger yell a shrill, far-carrying cry in which the despair of the miserable jungle-folk becomes vocal, calling to the unresponsive heavens and to unpity- ing man and beast the tale of their helplessness and of their wrongs. Te-I and Laish joined in the cry, but above the Lumult could be heard the bestial growlings of the unseen tiger worrying its prey.
Presently the Sakai, still screaming as though in noise they sought comfort and protection from the dangers besetting them, forced their way, singly or in groups, out of the underwood, and gathered in a
