camp to trade, returning home at dusk.
Meanwhile, the tiger returns to his kill. It is clear that it has been
tampered with, and the tiger takes umbrage. Perhaps the tiger has a feed
and a rest, or he may set off immediately on the trail of these interloping
competitors. There is no ambiguity about who the tiger seeks: the scent
trail of several dogs and a man is easy to follow. The tiger arrives at
Markov’s sometime after nightfall, which, in early December, means
anytime after 4:30 in the afternoon. He approaches from the east, from
the Amba River, and the first thing he comes across is the meat cache.
When Trush investigated the meat cache wellhead in the stream, east
of Markov’s cabin, he saw that it had been knocked over and that
something had been dragged away from it, something that could have
been a frozen boar leg. Trush didn’t spend a lot of time there, just long
enough for him and Lazurenko to ascertain that the tiger had come from
that direction and that the wellhead had been the first thing he
investigated. However, they did note that this was the site of a resting
place where the tiger spent a particularly long time—perhaps while he ate
the recovered meat.
Following this, the tiger continues on toward the cabin, stopping
briefly by Markov’s log latrine. By now, the dogs, wherever they are, are
sounding the alarm. The tiger makes his way down to the cabin where he
scours the area, knocking over Markov’s belongings and chewing them
up in his angry search for Markov, his dogs, the rest of the meat, or all of
the above (this damage could also have been done when the tiger returned
later for the final stakeout). Meanwhile, Markov is inside, probably
cooking up some of the boar meat (which the tiger may have scented
already), and he may understand perfectly why the tiger is there. He
realizes now that he has a serious problem on his hands. The tiger circles
the caravan, searching for a way to get in, or at the dogs, which may be
inside if they’re not hiding underneath. Markov is growing increasingly
nervous; the caravan is a flimsy structure, sheathed only in boards, the
cracks between them stuffed with rags to keep the wind out. By now, he
may have realized that he has taken meat from the wrong tiger, and he is
going to have to do something besides chain-smoke. Markov gets his gun.
ron
(Ron)
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