A Race for Life.

Waikato Times, Volume XXIII, Issue 1917, 18 October 1884, Page 2 (Supplement)

A Race for Life.

As I rose, my eyes encountered something which made me start, and nearly drop my bicycle. There, not forty yards off, was a tiger. I knew the animal well enough; but how different he looked from the lean half-starved little beast I had seen at home I He had just come into the open space from a dense junglebreak, and sat there, washing his face and purring in a contented sort of way, like a huge cat. Was I frightened ? Not an atom ; I had my bicycle and a start of forty yards, so if I could not beat him it was a pity. He had not seen me yet, and I stood for another minute admiring the handsome creature, and then quietly mounted (the tiger was directly on my right, while the road stretched straight away in front of rue). The noise I made roused him : he looked up, and then, after deliberately stretching himself, came leaping with long graceful bounds over the rank grass and rocks which separated him from the road. He did not seem a bit angry, but evidently wished to get a nearer view of such an extraordinary object. Forty yards, however, I thought was quite near enough for safety. The tiger was in the road behind me now ; so I pulled myself togethes, and began to quicken pace. Would he stop, disgusted, after the first hundred yards, and give up the chase, or would he stick to it ? I quite hoped he would follow me, and already pictured in my mind the graphic description I would write home of my race with a tiger. Little did I think what a terrible race it was going to be. I looked behind me. By Jove Ihe was ' sticking to it.' I could not judge the distance ; but at any rate I was no further from him than when we started. Now for a spurt 1 1 rode the next half-mile as hard as I could ; but, on again looking round, found I had not gained a yard. The tiger was on my track, moving with a long swinging trot, and going quite as quickly as I was. For the first time I began to feel anxious; and thought uneasily of the ten long miles which separated me from safety. However, it was no good thinking now ; it was- my muscle and iron steed against the brute. I could only do my best, and trust in , Providence. Now- there was no doubt about the tiger's intention ; his blood was up, and on he came, occasionally giving vent to a roar, which made the ground tremble. Another mile had been traversed, and the tiger was slowly but surely closing up. I dashed my pouch to the ground^ hoping it would stop him for a few seoonds ; but he kept steadily on, and I felt it was then grim earnest. .. I calculated we must be about seven miles from camp now, and before I could ride ,

another four my pursuer, I knew, must reach me. 0, the agony of those minutes, which fleemed to me like long hours 1 Another mile passed, then another. I could hear him behind me now — pad, pad, pad, quicker and quicker, louder and louder. I turned in my saddle for a moment, and saw there were not twenty yards separating us I How enormous the brute looked, and how terrible! His huge tongue hung out, and the only sound he made was a continual hoarse growl of rage, while his eyes seemed to literally flash fire. It was like some awful nightmare, and, with a shudder, I bent down over the handles, and flew on. As I now sit quietly in my ohair writing, I find it hard to analyse the crowd of memories that went"ruBhing through my brain during that fearful ride. I saw long forgotten events in which I had taken part rise up distinctly before me ; and while every muscle was racked with my terrible exertion my mind was clear, and my life seemed to pass before me like one long panorama. On, on, on; the slightest slip, I knew, would be fatal ; a Budden jolt, a screw giving, and I should be hurled to inßtant death. Human strength would not stand much more ; the prolonged strain had told übon me, and I felt it would soon be all over. My breath came in thick sobs, a mist gathered before my eyes— l was stopping; my legs refused to move, and a thousand fiends seemed to be flitting about me, holding me back, back I A weight like lead was on my chest ; J was choking, I was dying.^ Then a few moments which seemed a lifetime, and then —crash— with a roar like thunder the tiger was on me, and I was crushed to the ground. Then I heard shots fired, a Babel of men's voices, and all was blank. ♦ * ♦ * After many days of unconsciousness and raging fever, reason gradually rteurned, and I learnt the particulars of my deliveraaoe. A party of officers had started with a shikaree (or native hunter) to a trap which had been prepared for the tiger. A goat was i tethered on the out-kirts of the jungle,_ and the sportsman had started to take up positions in the trees near, to wait for their game, which the bleat ef the goat, in the stillness of the night, would Bpeedily have attracted. They were talking of our coming bicyclerace as they went along, and expecting every moment to meet me on my return journey. As they passed a clump of bushes I oame in sight, about a quarter of a mile in front of them, whirling along in a cloud of dust, which hid my terrible pursuer. They soon, however, saw my awful danger. The huge brute, mad with rage, hurled itself upon me just as we reached them. My friends stood almost petrified with terror, and did not dare to fire ; but the shikaree, a man of iron nerve, and accustomed to face sudden danger of all kinds in the hunting-field, sprang quickly to within a yard of the tiger, and, putting his rifle almost to the animal's ear, fired twice, and blew its brains out, just in time to save my lile. I was drawn from under the palpitating body of my dead enemy, every one present believing that it was all up with me. Making a litter of boughs, they carried me into the camp, where I lay for many weeks lingering between life and death. — London Society.