awkward bird to hit—specially when ye don't pint the gun quite straight. An' the tail, too, is apt to throw even a crack-shot out—so it is. Niver mind; there 's plenty more where that wan came from."
Thus encouraged, our sportsman reloaded and continued his progress.
It is said that fortune favours the brave, and on that occasion the proverb was verified. There can be no question that our friend Jim Slagg was brave. All Irishmen are courageous, therefore it is equally certain that Flinn was brave, and the attenuated black could not have been otherwise than brave, else he would not have continued to enjoy himself in the dangerous neighbourhood of Slagg's gun. As a consequence, therefore, fortune did favour the sportsmen that day, for it brought them unexpectedly into the presence of the king of India's forests—a royal Bengal tiger—tawny skin, round face, glaring eyes, and black stripes complete from nose to tail!
There was no doubt in Flinn's mind about it, as his actions proved, but there were considerable doubts in Slagg's mind, as was evinced by his immediate petrifaction—not with fear, of course, but with something or other remarkably similar.
Slagg chanced to be walking in advance at the time, making his way with some trouble through a
