THE TOMB OF HIS ANCESTORS
below Jan Chirm's tomb, and disappeared in a narrow-mouthed cave. It was an insolently open road, a domestic highway, beaten without thought of concealment.
"The beggar might be paying rent and taxes," Chinn muttered ere he asked whether his friend's taste ran to cattle or man.
"Cattle," was the answer. "Two heifers a week. We drive them for him at the foot of the hill. It is his custom. If we did not, he might seek us."
"Blackmail and piracy," said Chinn. "I can't say I fancy going into the cave after him. What 's to be done?"
The Bhils fell back as Chinn lodged himself behind a rock with his rifle ready. Tigers, he knew, were shy beasts, but one who had been long cattle-fed in this sumptuous style might prove overbold.
"He speaks!" some one whispered from the rear.
"He knows, too."
"Well, of all the infernal cheek!" said Chinn. There was an angry growl from the cave—a direct challenge.
"Come out, then," Chinn shouted. "Come out of that. Let 's have a look at you."
The brute knew well enough that there was some connection between brown nude Bhils and his weekly allowance; but the white helmet in the sunlight annoyed him, and he did not approve of the voice that broke his rest. Lazily as a gorged snake, he dragged himself out of the cave, and stood yawning and blinking at the entrance. The sunlight fell upon his flat right side, and Chinn wondered. Never had he seen a tiger marked
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