Dobbs, not being in any better mood than his partner, said: “The Indians usually don’t act this way. They let you stay with them for the night and even give you part of the little food they have. It seems to me they were too much afraid of us. There are three of us, and they may have figured we might easily overpower them if they offered us hospitality. They must have had bad experiences of this sort, and I can easily imagine a good many bums in port, whites and natives, who wouldn’t mind robbing or even killing a couple of villagers if they couldn’t get what they wanted otherwise. Anyway, there’s no use arguing this point. Here we are now in the open road surrounded by jungle and we have to make the best of it.”
“Looks to me,” Moulton said, “as though we couldn’t even go back to that little village, even if we wanted to.”
“Right,” Dobbs admitted. “We’d get lost. I can’t even see a stone at my feet any longer. Nothing else to do but stop right where we are.”
“I think that big village can’t be far.” Moulton did not like the idea of spending the night on a jungle road. “I noticed there were tracks of horses and cows on the road. We must be near. Perhaps we ought to try once more.”
“I’m against it.” Dobbs was determined. “That village may be near, and it may be still three miles away. I don’t take any chances of being lost in the middle of the jungle. Here we are still on the road and by all means safer than inside the jungle.”
With lighted matches they looked around on the ground for the best place to rest in for the night. It looked bad enough. The road was not at all clean. It was just a dirt road, rarely used, covered with small cactuses and low thorny bushes. Whole armies of huge red ants were running about, and a multitude of other insects were crawling and creeping in all directions, leaving practically not a square inch of soil uncovered in their search for food or safety or the pleasures of love.
“Didn’t that Indian here say something about tigers, snakes, and lions being at large in this section?” Moulton asked with a desperate voice on seeing the ground so uninviting.
“He said something to that effect,” Dobbs remembered. He turned to the native, who stood near by, seemingly without the slightest interest in what his companions were doing or saying. He was waiting for the two Americans to decide where and how to spend the night, and whatever they might decide, he would accept their decision and spend the night as near them as he could. Where an American could sleep and feel safe, an Indian could sleep still better and safer.
Dobbs said now to the Indian: “You’re quite sure there are tigers hereabouts?”
“Positively, senor. Hay muchos, muchisimo tigres aqui. There are so many tigers here in this jungle that whenever an American goes out hunting for a day, he never returns at night without at least four big tigers loaded on his car. I have seen them, senores, or otherwise I would not mention it.”
“Thanks for the information,” Dobbs said. “Well, partner, I wouldn’t be in the least surprised if you should find me in the morning between the paws of a tiger, half eaten up for breakfast.”
“Better don’t joke about that,” Moulton answered. “We haven’t even a flashlight with us to chase them off. Well, I think there’s nothing left now but to pray to the Lord, who is the King of all men and beasts.”
From talking and thinking and standing around they became sleepy. It was impossible to stand on their feet for the whole night, so they lay down on the ground, forgetting all about ants and beetles and reptiles.
Hardly had they settled themselves, when the Indian squeezed himself between the two like a dog. He did this very slowly, trying to disturb them as little as possible, but none the less with all the firm determination that he could muster. The two Americans might push him, kick him, try to pull him away; no sooner did they cease than he was snugly in between them once more. He felt safe only between the two. They had to give up and leave him where he wanted to sleep. He preferred their kicks and beatings to the claws of the tiger.
Moulton was awakened by a small reptile creeping over his face. He shook it off and sat up. While he was trying to realize where he was and listening to the eternal singing of the tropical jungle, he was stricken as by a shock. His breath stopped, and he could now hear very distinctly steps slowly approaching. Very soft steps they were, but heavy. No doubt they were the steps of a huge animal. Only very huge animals would make such heavy steps, and since they were at the same time very soft, they could only be those of a great cat. A tiger. A huge tiger, a tigre real, one of the biggest in those jungles he must be.
Moulton didn’t want to be afraid. He wanted not to wake the others until he was sure. So he listened again. The steps had halted. The great beast was obviously feeling his way and looking for the best place from which to jump at his victim. After half a minute Moulton heard the steps again, more slow and more cautious than before, and step by step coming closer. They were heavier now and each time he heard them set more firmly on the soft ground. When he thought a suppressed growl reached his ears, he jerked Dobbs awake.
“What is it?” Dobbs asked in a sleepy voice.
“A tiger is right behind us.”
“A what?”
“That’s what I said,” Moulton whispered. “A tiger is after us.”
Dobbs listened into the night. Then he said: “You’re right, buddy, that sure is a huge beast. I think it must be a tiger. A human being wouldn’t sneak through the bush this way. It can only be a tiger or a lion.”
It was not clear whether the Indian had been awake for some time already or whether he had been aroused by the excited talk of the two. But at the same moment the two partners stood up, he was up too, keeping as close to them as he could.
“Es un tigre, muy cierto, por la Madre SantIsima; that’s a huge tiger, so help me the Holy Virgin.” His voice trembled for fear. “He will jump at us now any minute. There he is, hardly twenty feet away. I can see the green glow of his eyes.” He stared into the dense thicket and at the same time embraced Dobbs’s whole body. Dobbs shook him off. Then he hid close to Moulton. The terror-stricken Indian, who certainly knew a tiger when he smelled one, deprived Dobbs and Moulton of the last bit of courage they had kept so far. All three now held close together.
“We can’t stay this way all night,” Dobbs said after a few minutes. “We have to do something.”
“We’d better make as few moves as possible,” Moulton advised. “Somewhere I’ve read that these huge cats jump at their prey only when they see it make a move.”
They listened again into the darkness to find out whether the animal was still near or had disappeared. For many minutes they could hear nothing but the never ceasing singing of the jungle insects. Then they heard the steps again, very distinctly. They Seemed to be at the same distance as before.
The Indian then whispered: “Best thing we can do is climb up a tree.”
“Tigers climb trees just as easily as they walk on the ground,” Moulton said.
Dobbs was of a different opinion. “That muchacho here is right, I think. It’s the safest thing we can do. Even if that beast tries to climb the tree, if we are high enough we can defend ourselves with a stick, maybe.”
Cautiously feeling around, they succeeded in finding an ebony tree. Dobbs was the first to climb up. No sooner had the Indian taken note of what Dobbs was doing than he was right after him, climbing close behind him and pushing Moulton, who wanted to be next, away from the tree. He keenly wanted not to be the last and so nearest to the ground. He considered the safest place of all exactly between the two Americans, Dobbs above him, and Moulton beneath him. He was ready to sacrifice either of them as long as he could be safe from the claws of the tiger. Anxious as he had been to climb the tree, he had nevertheless not forgotten to take along his bast bag. Not even this bag did he wish to leave to the mercy of the jungle beast.