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Crawford, F. Marion (Francis Marion), 1854-1909

"Mr. Isaacs"


A great yell of triumph arose all along the line, and the little
_mahout_ crept cautiously back from his lurking-place behind the howdah
to see if the coast were clear. Kildare had behaved splendidly, and
shouts of congratulation reached his ears from all sides. Miss
Westonhaugh waved her handkerchief in token of approbation, every one
applauded, and far away to the left Isaacs, who was in the last howdah,
clapped his hands vigorously, and seat his high clear voice ringing like
a trumpet down the line.
"Well done, Kildare! well done, indeed!" and his rival's praise was not
the least grateful to Lord Steepleton on that day. Meanwhile the
shikarries gathered around the fallen beast. It proved to be a young
tigress some eight feet long, and the clean bright coat showed that she
was no man-eater. So the pad elephant came alongside, to use a nautical
phrase not inappropriate, and kneeling down received its burden
willingly, well knowing that the slain beauty was one of his deadly
foes. The _mahout_ pronounced the elephant on which Kildare was mounted
able to proceed, and only a few huge drops of blood marked where the
tigress had kept her hold. We moved on again, beating the jungle,
wheeling and doubling the long line, wherever it seemed likely that some
striped monster might have eluded us.


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