New-York tribune., 1921-04-10

which the rife seemed to whirl about in his
arms, drive to his shoulder and blaze in the
deepening twilight And the shot went true.
1t pierced the mugger from beneath tearing
upward through the brain. And then the agi-
tated waters of the ford slowly grew quiet
The last echo of the report was dying when
Singhai stretched his bleeding arms about
Warwick's body, caught up the rifle and
dragged them forty feet up on the shore. 1t
effort that cost the last of his strength.
Warwick was the first to regain conscious
ness. At first he didn't understand the lashing
pain in his wrists, the strange numbness in
one of his legs, the darkness, with the great
white Indian stars shining through. Then he
remembered. And he tried to stretch his
TO the prone form beside him.
The attempt was an absolute failure; the
muscles refused to react. He turned, wracked
with pain, on his side and lifted his left arm.
In doing his hand crossed before his eyes
and then he smiled wanly in the darkness.
1t quite like Warwick, sportsman and
English gentleman, to smile at time like
this. Even in the gray darkness of the jungle
night he could the hand quite plainly. 1t
10 longer looked slim and white. The mugger
had caught his fingers in one of it's last rushes.
The fingers were torn, yet their bones did
not seem to be severed. Temporarily, how
tver the hand was utterly useless. The fingers
sfelt strange and detached.
lie reached out to the still form beside him.
touching the dark skin with the flesh of his
wrist. He expected to find it cold. Singhal
was alive, however, and his warm blood beat
close to the dark skin.
But he was deeply unconscious, and it was
possible that foot was hopelessly mutt
lated.
FOR moment Warwick lay quite still. He
did not believe that either he or his at
fendant was mortally very seriously
hurt. True, Of his arms had suffered
paralysis but there was no reason for think
ing 1t had been permanently injured His
hand would be badly SCARED, but soon as good
as ever The real question that faced them
was that of getting back to the bungalow.
Then he called into the darkness. A heavy
body brushed through the creepers and,
stepping falsely, broke a twig. He thought
at first that it might be Of the villagers
coming to look for him. But at once tn :
step silenced.
Warwick had disturbing thought that the
creature that had broken the twig had not
gone away, but crouching down, in a
curious manner, in the deep shadows Nahara
had returned to her hunting
esGOME time !, too, will be hunter OF
tigers" Little Shikara told his mother
when the beaters began to circle through the
bamboos. "To carry a gun beside Warwick
Sahib-and to be honored in the circle under
the tree!"
But his mother hardly listened. She was
quivering with fright. She had seen the last
part of the drama in front of the village, and
she was too frightened even to notice the
curious imperturbabilty of her little son. But
s. there orderly retreat after Little Shi-
kara had heard the two reports of the rifle
At first there were only the shouts of the
bearers, sngularly high-pitched much running
hack ard forth in the shadows and then ,
peii-nell scurry to the shelter of the villages
But there was one among them who not
yet man grown; boy small that he could
hover, unnoticed, in the very smallest of the
terrible shadow patches. He was Little Shi-
kara, and he shocked to the depths of his
worshiping heart. For Warwick had been his
hero and he felt himself burning with indigna.
tion that the heaters should return so soon.
y y He went up to one of the younger beaters
who had told and retold story of catching q
glimpse Of Nahara in the thckets until mt
one was left to tell it to. He was standing