Against my better judgement, we looked for the river bank again, and continued up it. Soon Braulio found the tiger's tracks on a beach, and this time they went all the way to the shore.
It was necessary to make sure whether the beast had passed that way to the other side, or whether, prevented by the currents, which were already very strong and impetuous, it had continued up the bank where we were, which was more likely.
Braulio, shotgun cocked on his back, forded the stream, tying a rejojo to his waist, the end of which José held to prevent a misstep from rolling the boy into the immediate waterfall.
There was a profound silence, and we silenced the occasional impatient yelp from the dogs.
–There's no trace here," said Braulio after examining the sands and undergrowth.
As he stood up, turned towards us, on the top of a crag, we understood from his gestures that he was ordering us to stand still.
He slung the shotgun from his shoulders, leaned it against his chest as if to fire at the rocks behind us, leaned forward slightly, steady and calm, and fired.
–There! -he shouted, pointing towards the wooded crags whose edges we could not see; and leaping down to the bank, he added:
–The tight rope! The dogs higher up!
The dogs seemed to be aware of what had happened: as soon as we released them, following Braulio's order, while José helped him to cross the river, they disappeared to our right through the reed beds.
–Hold it," shouted Braulio again, gaining the bank. -cried Braulio again, gaining the bank; and as he hastily loaded the shotgun, catching sight of me, he added:
–You here, boss.
The dogs were in close pursuit of the prey, which must not have had an easy way out, as the barking came from the same point on the slope.
Braulio took a spear from José, saying to both of us:
–You lower and higher, to guard this pass, for the tiger will come back on his trail if he escapes from where he is. Tiburcio with you," he added.
And addressing Lucas:
–The two of them to go round the top of the rock.
Then, with his usual sweet smile, he finished by placing a piston in the shotgun's chimney with a steady hand:
–It's a kitten, and it's already wounded.
In saying the last words we dispersed.
José, Tiburcio and I climbed up to a conveniently located rock. Tiburcio looked and looked over the stock of his shotgun. José was all eyes. From there we could see what was happening on the crag and could keep the recommended pace; for the trees on the slope, though stout, were rare.
Of the six dogs, two were already out of action: one of them was gutted at the feet of the beast; the other, with his entrails showing through one of his ribs torn open, had come to look for us and was expiring with pitiful whimpers by the stone we were occupying.
With his back against a clump of oak trees, his tail swaying, his back bristling, his eyes blazing and his teeth bared, the tiger snorted hoarsely, and when he shook his huge head, his ears made a noise similar to that of wooden castanets. As he rolled over, harassed by the dogs, which were not frightened but not very healthy, blood dripped from his left flank, which he sometimes tried to lick, but to no avail, for then the pack would be on his tail with advantage.
Braulio and Lucas appeared coming out of the reed bed on the crag, but a little further away from the beast than we were. Lucas was livid, and the carate spots on his cheekbones were turquoise blue.
