Thus, she neither saw nor heard the pious pilgrims who were on their

way to Allaha to pray in that temple known to offer protection against

wild beasts. Fortunately, they did not observe her.

The pilgrim is always a pilgrim in India; it becomes, one might say, a

fascinating kind of sport. To most of them, short pilgrimages are as

tame as rabbits would be to the hunter of lions. They will walk from

Bombay to Benares, from Madras to Llassa, begging and bragging all the

way. Eventually they become semi-holy, distinguished citizens in a

clutter of mud huts.

They deposited some corn and fruit at the foot of the tree and

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departed, leaving Kathlyn in peace. But later, when the moon poured

its white, cold radiance over her face it awakened her, and it took her

some time to realize where she was.

Below, belly deep in the river, stood several water buffaloes, their

sweeping horns glistening like old ivory in the moonshine. Presently a

leopard stole down to the brink and lapped the water greedily, from

time to time throwing a hasty, apprehensive glance over his sleek

shoulders. The buffaloes never stirred; where they were it was safe.

Across the river a bulky shadow moved into the light, and a fat, brown

bear took his tithe of the water. The leopard snarled and slunk off.

The bear washed his face, possibly sticky with purloined wild honey,

and betook himself back to his lair.

Kathlyn suddenly became aware of the fact that she was a spectator to a

scene such as few human beings are permitted to see: truce water, where

the wild beasts do not kill one another. She grew so interested that

she forgot her own plight. The tree stood only a few feet from the

water, so she saw everything distinctly.

Later, when his majesty the tiger made his appearance dramatically, the

buffaloes simply moved closer together, presenting a formidable

frontage of horns.

Never had Kathlyn seen such an enormous beast. From his great padded

paws to his sloping shoulders he stood easily four feet in height, and

his stripes were almost as broad as her hand. He drank, doubtless

eying the buffaloes speculatively; some other time. Then he, too, sat

on his haunches and washed his face, but with infinite gracefulness.

It occurred to the watcher that, familiar as she was with the habits of

wild beasts, never had she witnessed a tiger or a lion enact this

domestic scene. Either they were always pacing their cages, gazing far

over the heads of those who watched them, or they slept. Even when

they finished a meal of raw meat they merely licked their chops; there

was no toilet.

Here, however, was an elaborate toilet. The great cat licked his paws,

drew them across his face; then licked his beautiful sides, purring;

for the night was so still and the beast was so near that she could see

him quite plainly. He stretched himself, took another drink, and

trotted off to the jungle.