The little ones learned their lesson quickly.  By the time they had finished the pieces of venison they were about as savage specimens of the cat tribe as could be found anywhere.  Not only did they gnaw and tear, and growl, but they used their small claws, which were just beginning to grow.  Contracting their feet, until the claws, which were like little sickles, curved slowly inward, they slashed the venison until it looked as though it had been cut with so many knives.

Tera was more pleased than ever to see them use their feet in this fashion—­for a tiger’s chief weapons are in its feet, and it can tear a man, horse or bullock to pieces in a very short time with these powerful weapons.

After they had finished their meal the cubs lay down, licking the spots of fresh blood which were left on their noses and paws, and giving funny little growls at the reminiscences of the feast.

But Tera was uneasy about the beaters, and, having had her evening meal, she did not go out again that night.  She was restless and unsettled, and kept a sharp lookout until the early morning.  Then she fell into a sound sleep, lying with her forepaws tucked comfortably under her and her head resting on them.  But in the midst of this restful sleep Tera suddenly sprang up, her tail waving threateningly, her whiskers twitching, and her keen eyes fierce and defiant.

Just outside the lair Tera could see a group of natives banging, screaming, yelling and beating pans, accompanied by a horrible drumming sound which nearly deafened her.  The cubs, frightened and bewildered, crouched round their mother and nestled closely to her.

Had it not been for her cubs, Tera would have gone out in spite of all, for the noise was terrifying and bewildering, and she scarcely knew where she was or what she was doing.  But she had her little ones to think of, and, at that moment, would rather have died than have left them.

Her fur bristled up with rage, and she prepared to fight to the death.  She knew exactly what was happening; knew perfectly well that the cruel hunters were behind the beaters, and that they were only waiting for her to come out so that they could use those horrible things full of fire.

And so, fortunately for her, she stayed where she was, and thus not only saved her own life, but probably the lives of her little ones.

The beaters, concluding there were no tigers about, moved off, and, as soon as their voices died away in the distance, Tera—­after caressing her cubs—­lay down and gave them their morning meal, keeping a sharp lookout, meanwhile, with uplifted head, nervous ears, and eyes that gleamed like amber.

Meanwhile, Tranta, who had found a particularly nice korinda bush, and crept into it, considered himself safe.  He knew the beaters were coming; he had heard them when they were doing their best to lure Tera forth, so he crouched still closer in his hiding-place.