coward. No doubt what the native said was true. He looked like a camp worker and might well be after honest work exactly as they two were. Looked at closely, there was not a trace in his face or anywhere about him to remind one of a bandit.
To make absolutely sure, Dobbs asked: “Why don’t you go alone? Why do you follow us all the time?”
“To tell you the truth, caballeros,” the Indian explained, “I had been sitting by this road already three days, from sunrise to sunset, waiting there for some white men passing by with whom I might go to the camps.”
“Can’t you find your way alone?” Moulton asked.
“Yes, I could. Maybe. But the trouble with me is soy un gran cobarde, I am a big coward. I am afraid of going alone through the jungle. There are huge tigers, and snakes huger still.”
“We aren’t afraid of anything in the world, we aren’t,” Dobbs said with great conviction.
“I know you aren’t. That’s the reason why I was waiting for whites going the same way.”
“But whites may be eaten by tigers, too,” Moulton said.
“No, senor, there you are mistaken. Tigers and lions of our country don’t attack Americans; they attack only us, because we belong to the same country, we are sort of compatriots, and that’s why our tigers and lions prefer us and never bother an American. What is more, along the road to the camps there are also sometimes a lot of bandits sitting and waiting for someone to come along to rob. The shores of the Tamihua Lagoon is infested with these murderers.”
“It looks very promising,” Moulton said to Dobbs.
Dobbs replied: “What’s biting you now? What’s the joke?”
“I was just thinking how afraid we were of this pobre hombre here, this little piece of human being, and he was a hundred times more afraid of us.”
“Aw, shut up, you make me sick.” Dobbs wanted to forget.
“Besides,” Moulton continued, “sometimes it’s a good thing not to have a gun on your hip, or this poor devil would no longer be alive and we might find ourselves in a hell of a mess, for no one on earth would believe we acted in self-defense.”
From now on the Indian went along with them, hardly speaking a word, walking by their side or behind them, just as the road would permit.
Shortly before sunset they reached a little Indian village which consisted of only a few huts. The inhabitants, hospitable as they are at heart, were afraid of the strangers, owing to the many tales about bandits in the neighborhood. So with kind words and many excuses they persuaded the three men to go on and try to reach the next village, which, they stated, was bigger and had better accommodations—even a fonda, a little inn—and since the sun had not completely disappeared yet, they might reach that big village still with the last rays of daylight.
There was nothing else to do but go on. One mile they covered and there was no sign of a village. They marched another mile and there was still no village in sight.
By now it had become pitch-dark and they could no longer see the road. If they went on, they might easily get lost in the jungle.
“Those people in the village must have lied to us about that big place we were supposed to come across soon.” Moulton was angry. “We shouldn’t have left the village, but stayed there with or without their consent, even if we had to sleep in the open but still near the huts.”
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.”
