But
neither tiger nor cobra was visible--nothing but Cameron pointing with
ghastly haggard face and starting eyeballs at something we could not see.
"'Cameron! Cameron!' cried I, seizing his arm, 'for heavens sake speak!
What is the matter?' Scarcely were the words out of my mouth when a low
but very peculiar sound struck upon my ear, and Cameron, dropping his
pointing hand, said in a hoarse, strained voice, 'There! you heard it?
Thank God it's over!' and fell to the ground insensible. There was a
momentary confusion while we unfastened his collar, and I dashed in his
face some water which I fortunately had in my flask, while another tried
to pour brandy between his clenched teeth; and under cover of it I
whispered to the man next to me (one of our greatest skeptics, by the
way), 'Beauchamp, did you hear anything?' 'Why, yes,' he replied, 'a
curious sound, very; a sort of crash or rattle far away in the distance,
yet very distinct; if the thing were not utterly impossible, I could have
sworn that it was the rattle of musketry.' 'Just my impression,' murmured
I; 'but hush! he is recovering.'
"In a minute or two he was able to speak feebly, and began to thank us and
apologize for giving trouble; and soon he sat up, leaning against a tree,
and in a firm, though low voice said: 'My dear friends, I feel that I owe
you an explanation of my extraordinary behavior.
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