Crouched in the palanquin Kathlyn waited for the onslaught of the

leopards. Once she heard a tremendous scratching at the rear of her

hiding-place; the palanquin tottered. But the animal was not trying to

get inside; he was merely sharpening his claws after the manner of his

kind, claws which were sharp enough, heaven knew, since, regularly,

once a month the keepers filed them to needle-points.

An elephant trumpeted near by, and Kathlyn could have wept in despair.

Outside the wall were friends, doubtless by this time joined by her

father and Ramabai, and all wondering where she was. She dared not

call out for fear of attracting the leopards, whose movements she could

hear constantly: the jar of their padded feet as they trotted under and

about the palanquin, the sniff-sniff of their wet noses, an occasional

yawning.

By and by her curiosity could not be withstood, even though she might

be courting death. Cautiously and soundlessly she moved the curtain

which faced the wall. A mass of heavy vines ran from the ground to the

top of this wall. If only she could reach it; if only she dared try!

Presently the keepers, armed with goads and ropes, would be

forthcoming, and all hope of flight banished. Umballa, upon close

inspection, would recognize her despite her darkened skin and Indian

dress.

From the other window she peered. There, in the path, were two

leopards, boxing and frolicking in play. As she watched, always

interested in the gambols of such animals, she noticed that two other

leopards left off prowling, approached, sat upon their haunches, and

critically followed the friendly set-to. Then the other three, seeking

diversity, sauntered into view. Kathlyn quickened with life and hope.

The seven leopards were at least half a dozen yards away. It was but a

step to the vines sprawling over the wall.

To think that all depended upon the handle of the palanquin door! If

it opened without noise there was a chance. If it creaked she was

lost; for she would fall into the hands of the keepers if not under the

merciless paws of the cats.

But the longer she hesitated the less time she would have. Bravely,

then, she tried her hand upon the door handle and slowly but firmly

turned it. There was no sound that she could hear. She pressed it

outward with a slow steady movement. Fortunately the dress of the

Hindu was short, somewhat above the ankles, and within her strong young

body was free of those modern contrivances known as corsets and stays.

She sprang out, dashed for the vines and drew herself up rapidly. In

unison the seven leopards whirled and flew at her. But the half a

dozen yards which they had first to cover to reach the wall saved her.

Up, up, desperately, wildly, with a nervous energy which did far more

for her than her natural strength. The cats leaped and snarled at her

heels. She went on. Beneath her the leopards tore at the vines and

tried to follow, one succeeding in tearing her skirt with a desperate

slash of his paw. He lost his hold and tumbled back among his mates.




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