The Washington times., 1932-09-06
WILD CARGO
.By FRANK BUCK.

brush I had asked my Malay
boy, Ali, if he was afraid to go
in with me. He replied, as I
knew he would, wherever you
go, master, I CO." So we pre-
pared the flares by cutting five
poles, six to eight feet long,
and fastening a flare on the
end of each pole. Ali took the
flares while I buckled on a
heavy revolver-a weapon OF
maximum headlines in close
quarters-and took up my rifle,
a 800 Savage loaded with 180-
grain Soft-noSed bullets. We
lowered a long bamboo ladder
into the enclosure from the top
of the wall, and the two of us
climbed down.
I have no desire to eXag-
gerate the risk we we're taking.
There was a fair chance that it
was no risk at all. 1t was quite
possible the tiger would take
to his heels the second we got
anywhere near him. These
great cats, like all other deni-
zens of the jungle, have an in
Stinct which teaches discretion
as the better part of valor.
Under ordinary circumstances
they will usually avoid too
close contact with human be-
ings. But, after all, a tiger is
a tiger and one can never be
sure what these incalculable
beasts will do. 1t is the best
tactics, when dealing with
them, always to expect the un-
expected.
This was the mental attitude
with which Ali and I ap-
preached our task. We got
down into the. enclosure and
worked cautiously over to the
edge of the thicket, keeping a
keen lookout for any move
ment in the high grass. I had
my rifle ready for instantaneous
use, although I certainly would
not shoot unless it was abso-
lutely necessary. Ali walked
behind me, holding the sticks
and a box of matches. I would
light the first flare. His in
structions were to keep his eyes
glued on me, and the second
my flare began to burn down
he was to light another and
hand it to me. had i'm
pressed upon him that I did
not want to be in the brush for
even part of a second without
a lighted flare.
Into the Brush
left my rifle leaning against
a small tree and, taking one
of the sticks from Ali, ignited
the fuse and we started into
the real thicket. kept poking
the burning flare into the brush
in front of me as we went in,
first to the right and then to
the left, in all directions. But
one thing had not figured on
was that the dazzling brilliance
of the torch was almost blind
ing to Ali and me.
I could not see a foot ahead
of my flare and I did not like
that at all, but I still felt that
this burning brand with it's
intense heat and brilliant light
was sufficient protection from
a charge.
In a Flash
The first flare began to die
down and Ali lighted a second
one and handed it to me. I
had no more than started
ahead with it, when suddenly
I heard a tremendous roar and
a crashing of brush. The tiger
was coming. He was making
for me from a point at my
left. I stepped back quickly in
order to give myself more
room in which to manipulate
the flare, the idea being to
use it as a means of warding
off the charge. AS I moved
backward my right foot caught
in a creeper and I went down,
flat on my back. In falling I
dropped the pole and made a
feverish grab for my revolver,
but on account of the awkward
ness of my position I could not
seem to get hold Of it.
The pole fell across my body,
the burning end Of it still
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