all went in a deputation, begging him to do away with the four-legged, unwelcome visitor.  Mr. S., who wished for nothing better, promised that he would go that same night, and, accompanied by his faithful native servant, went and hid himself in proximity to the hole whence the leopard was likely to spring.  It was a lovely moonlight night, and several hours had been passed in perfect silence and vain waiting for the chance of a shot, when a bright idea struck the native servant.  Certain that the leopard was no longer there, and wishing to retire to his warm room, he addressed his master in poetic terms somewhat as follows:—­

“Sir, I am a brave man, and fear neither man nor beast.  I am your servant, and for you am ready to give my life.  I have brought with me two long bamboos, and with them I shall go and poke in the drain, rouse the ferocious beast, and as he jumps out you will kill him.  If I shall lose my life, which I am ready to do for you, please think of my wife and child.”

“Very good,” said the Englishman, who was getting rather tired of the discomfort and cold, and who, though he did not say so, also shared the opinion that the brute had gone.

Thus encouraged, the servant at once proceeded to tie the two bamboos together, and again reminding his master of the brave act he was going to accomplish, proceeded with firm step to the drain, about thirty yards off.  When he reached the opening he seemed to hesitate.  He stood and listened.  He carefully peeped in and listened again.  He heard nothing.  Then, bringing all his courage to bear, he lifted his bamboo and began poking in the drain.  Two or three times, as he thought, he had touched something soft with the end.  He dropped his bamboo as if it had been a hot iron, and ran full-speed back to his master, imploring his protection.

“Has got—­has got—­kill—­master—­kill—­kill!” and he lay by his side, shivering with fright.

“You are frightened, you coward; there is nothing.  Go again.”

After a few minutes the faithful valet, who had then made quite sure that there was no leopard in the drain and that he had shown himself a coward, unwillingly and slowly returned to the charge and picked up his bamboo.

“I am trembling with cold, not with fear,” he had said as he was getting up again.  “I shall enter the drain this time and rouse the animal myself!”

So he really did.  He went in, holding the bamboo in front of him, and pausing at each step.  The farther in he went, the more his self-confidence failed him.  The drain was high enough to allow of his standing in it with his back and head bent down; wherefore, if an encounter with the spotted fiend were to take place, the retreat of the man would not be an easy matter.

“Master must think me very brave,” he was soliloquising on his subterranean march, when he received a sudden shock that nearly stopped his heart and froze the blood in his veins.  He had actually touched something soft with the end of his bamboo, and not only that, but he fancied he heard a growl.