Brave Tom | Page 7

to gather himself for the spring.
The lad felt the need of vigor. He whirled the torch harder, and reached farther, shouting,--
"Get out, or I'll burn your head off! Come any nearer if you dare!"--
At this moment Jim, in his enthusiasm, leaned a trifle too far. His feet slipped over the floor, and he sprawled headfirst out of the window.
Chapter IV.

Jim Travers felt that he was lost. The women uttered cries of anguish, clasped their hands, and almost fainted.
Sometimes, however, a person instinctively does the best thing possible, when, if he took time for thought, he would do the worst.
The antipathy of wild beasts to fire is well known, but it must be remembered that the full degree of this terror is felt only during the darkness of night. The sun was in the horizon when the stirring events we have set out to narrate were going on.
When Jim came tumbling through the window, he held fast to the blazing torch, even while trying to save himself from falling. His dexterity enabled him to keep fair command of his limbs, and he bounded to his feet in a twinkling, at the moment when he expected Tippo Sahib to come down upon him like a clawing avalanche.
Then, instead of turning about and clambering back through the window (the surest means of inviting the attack of the beast), he uttered a shout, and, holding the torch in front, ran straight at the tiger!
It may be doubted whether the fiercest of wild creatures would have withstood such an assault. Even though the sun was shining, the tiger knew something of the meaning of that glowing brand. Wheeling about like a cat, he trotted off, turning his head from side to side, and frequently glancing at his pursuer.
His flight brought him into the field of vision of Tom Gordon up-stairs, who had been mystified to understand what was going on below.
"I'll finish him this time," was his conclusion, as he flung up the window, thrust the barrel of the weapon through, and dropped on one knee.
But it seemed as if fate held that particular royal Bengal tiger in its special keeping that day. Before Tom could make his aim certain, Jim Travers popped in front, so in line with the beast that the young marksman could not fire at one without risk of hitting the other.
"I daresen't do it," he decided, leaning his gun against the wall beside him; "I'm afeard of hitting Jim."
Although the latter had displayed an extraordinary degree of coolness at a critical point in the events, it must not be supposed that he possessed any unusual share of courage. It was his implicit faith in the blazing torch that inspired him to a daring that few men would have shown; but on the outside he lost his head.
He was hardly conscious of what he was doing when he sat off after the fleeing animal, and there's no saying what the end would have been, or rather there's no doubt that he would have feared ill, had not Tom called to him,--
"Come back, Jim! Your torch will soon go out, and then he'll have you sure!"
"Golly! that's so!" muttered Jim, stopping like a flash, and dashing for the house again; "I didn't think of that!"
Good Mrs. Gordon and Aunt Cynthia had recovered in a degree their senses. Unspeakably shocked by the peril of the youth, whose courage they estimated too highly, they shrank from no risk that could aid his final escape. They had not closed the shutter after his mishap, and, when they saw him wheel and run back, they stood by the window ready to receive him.
Jim Travers was a good runner; and when it is stated that he was certain Tippo Sahib was skurrying at his heels, it need not be added that he "surpassed himself" in the way of fleetness. Finding, after running a short way, that the beast was not after him, Jim flung aside the torch and went through the window like a cannon shot, rolling over and striking the other side of the room before his flight was checked. A lad of his years, however, rarely suffers from hard knocks and bumps, and he was on his feet the next moment.
"Shet the window quick!" he called, "or he'll be in here."
No need of the appeal, for the mother with deft fingers quickly secured the shutter as before; and but for the lamp, all would have been in darkness again.
Jim darted up-stairs to learn how his playmate was making out.
"Why don't you shoot, Tom?" he called, hurrying to his side.
"'Cause I don't see anything to shoot at," was the answer.
"What's become of the tiger?"
"I guess you scared him off."
Jim peeped cautiously out of the window.
"That's so; he isn't anywhere round, but he was out there a