This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.
CONFESSIONS OF A THUG.
51

But here he was stopped short, and our laughter too, by a loud roar from a short distance; and a moment afterwards, the tigress and a half-grown cub, rushed past us with their tails in the air.

"Well, Khan," said the lad before-mentioned, "that is no Purrut Bagh at any rate; did you not see the tail of the big one, how she shook it at you?"

"I represent," said he, "that, tail or no tail, it holds the accursed soul of that wretch Yacoob, may his grave be defiled! and I will have nothing to do with it; it is useless to try to kill the Shitan; if he chose, you know, he could blow us all into hell with a breath."

"Namurd! Namurd! coward! coward!" cried some of us; "you were brave in the village; how are you now?"

"Who calls me Namurd?" roared the Khan; "follow me, and see if I am one or not," and he rushed forward, but not in the direction the tigress had gone.

"That is not the way," cried some, and at last he turned.

"This is child's play," said my father; "come, if we are to do anything, we had better set about it in good earnest."