CHAPTER VIII
AN ENCOUNTER WITH THE TIGER
illy felt his heart beat hard and fast, and for a moment his knees trembled under him. He backed slowly up to the solid deck and the great flaming eyes slowly crept up after him. Billy still backed away. The men who had been chasing him were now very close, but one of them saw the tiger's head coming up on the deck, and he yelled to the others, who immediately pressed back. As soon as he felt the firm deck floor under him and could see the animal's head as well as his eyes, Billy felt his courage coming back to him. He knew that he had to stand and fight. He felt that he could never run fast enough to get away from this powerful animal, and that before he could even turn and start to run the tiger would be upon him.
Slowly Billy backed away with his sharp horns lowered, and slowly the tiger came out on the deck, crouched down until his body almost touched the boards, his tail, full of hard muscles, waving slowly like a red and yellow snake. The men were panic-stricken and scattered in all directions, seeking places of safety wherever they could find them. Poor Hans Zug was the slowest of all. In his fright he stumbled over his own feet and fell three times to his hands and knees in trying to get away, and then he tried to hide himself behind a slim iron rod that ran up from the deck to the bridge, for he was too much paralyzed with fear to pursue his hunt any further for some safe hiding-place.
The tiger was not in a very big hurry about making his spring. He did not like the looks of Billy's horns, although he knew that he was much stronger and more powerful than the little white goat. Still they came on, Billy backing away and the tiger creeping toward him until they were almost where Hans Zug stood trembling so hard that his teeth chattered. Suddenly the tiger, with a swift spring, went up in the air, intending to jump clear over Billy's long horns and land upon his back, but Billy, himself as watchful and as careful as the tiger had been, sprang aside just as the tiger jumped, jerking his head sharply upward as the tiger went over him. One of his horns caught in the tiger's under side and ripped a big gash in him. Billy immediately sprang in the other direction, and the tiger, now fiercer than ever, wheeled quickly. This time his sharp claw caught Billy's shoulder as Billy jumped aside, tearing a big patch of Billy's hide loose. The pain staggered Billy and made him feel faint, but he knew it would never do to give up. The animal men now came running up from the rear hold, where some of the other animals were being fed, and one of them had a pistol, but the two animals were jumping about so swiftly that he could not be sure of shooting the tiger without shooting Billy, so he waited to see how the fight would turn out.
Time after time the tiger tried to get hold of Billy, but the goat was too quick for him, though each time they met one or the other of them got a mark. At last Billy felt that he was nearly whipped. The two animals were now facing each other for another spring. The tiger, too, was suffering from the last hook that Billy had given him but he was fresher than the goat. Billy swayed on his feet. The light seemed to turn into darkness before his eyes and he felt as if he were sinking down, down on a soft bed, but he kept his head bent in the tiger's direction. He felt, rather than saw, the tiger spring once more, and in spite of his weakened condition he braced himself up and gave one more sharp, hard toss of his strong neck. His horn caught the tiger right behind the front shoulder blade and pressed deeply in. This time he had found a vital spot. The tiger rolled over on his side, and, after a quiver or two, lay still. He was dead, but Billy did not know it, for the brave little goat had sunk to the floor with the tiger and lay as motionless as his dead enemy. The animal men came running up first, the one with the revolver in front of the others. Holding his revolver pointed straight to where he knew it would reach the animal's heart, he approached as slowly and cautiously as a cat creeping up to a mouse hole, felt the tiger's side and pronounced him really dead. Two of the men dragged the tiger away and the others crowded around the poor goat. At first they thought that he too was dead, but when they examined him they found that his heart was still beating slowly. One of them ran to bring water and another to get bandages.
When Billy woke up his wounds had been nicely washed, ointment had been applied to them, and bandages were carefully bound over them. The men were patting him gently and saying what a fine, brave goat he was and what a splendid fight he had made of it, and one big gruff voice, which Billy found out afterwards belonged to the captain, said:
"Well, this goat is not to be tied up any more. He shall have the freedom of the ship."
Billy moved his legs feebly and tried to get up, but not feeling quite strong enough yet, he sank back and found that his head was lying on somebody's knee. And now came the biggest surprise of all, for when Billy looked up to see who it was, here it was Hans Zug who was holding him!
"Ach, such a fine little goat, yet," Hans was saying, patting Billy's neck gently, while the great tears rolled down his round cheeks. "Such a brave little goat, yet. Thunder weather! He can butt me overboard once again if he should to like it! Aindt it?”
"WELL, OLD FELLOW, IF BROKEN BONES ARE ALL, WE CAN FIX THOSE."
Billy was the hero of the ship. It did not take him long to get well, and on the third day he was trotting around the deck as unconcerned as if he had never had a fight in his life. His bandages were off and only a little, red-edged scar on his shoulder remained to show how bravely he had fought the tiger. Hans Zug never was through praising him, but nevertheless, every time he went to speak to Billy he came toward him from behind, for Billy still had a way of shaking his head at him that made Hans feel like climbing a ladder. On the first day that he could go around unbandaged, nobody seemed to be able to pat Billy enough, but, true to his name, Billy could not long stay out of mischief.
Soon tiring of pacing the long decks, he went below in the cook's galley and began to hunt for dainties. He had learned by this time that people were very curious about things to eat. When they saw a goat helping himself, something was almost sure to happen to the goat and he could not understand it. You see, he could not know that everything belonged to somebody. All that he knew about it was that if you saw anything you wanted, and was lucky enough or strong enough or quick enough to get it, it was all right. Accordingly, he watched the cook, and when the cook's back was turned Billy grabbed a fine, big bunch of celery and trotted off with it. When he got in a dark corner he ate it and it was so fine that he wanted more. He went back into the cook's galley but could not see any. Then he went into a little, dark room that opened into it and found himself in a place full of the nicest things to eat he had ever seen in one pile. There were carrots and radishes and peas and fine, crisp, tender lettuce and all sorts of green stuff which had been brought aboard for the captain's table. Billy ate until he could hold no more, and then he happened to think that his mother would like some of that nice celery, so he picked out an extra fine bunch and trotted off with it. No one saw him and he made his way down into the hold where his mother was crowded in the pen with the other goats. He gave her the celery and while she was eating it he told her all that had happened to him and how much the ship's crew thought of him, and how even Hans Zug had become his friend.
"My, that was fine!" said his mother as she finished the last of me celery. "It is the nicest thing I have had to eat since we left home."
"Ho!" said Billy. "That is nothing. We cabin passengers have some of the finest things in the world to eat. What you need now is a bunch of tender lettuce to finish off with, and I'll go get you some," and he hurried off, leaving his mother very proud of his rise in the world.
Billy trotted boldly through the cook's galley, and the cook, who knew all about Billy's fight, tossed him some carrot tops as he passed. Billy was not at all hungry, but he ate the carrot tops just out of politeness, then he went on into the store room and picked out a nice big head of lettuce for his mother. He was just going out of the cook's galley with it when the cook turned round and saw him. Right away the cook forgot what a hero Billy was, and angry that Billy had taken some of his precious lettuce, cried:
"Hey! Drop that, you bobtailed thief!" and threw a skillet at Billy. It hit the goat in the side with a thump, but Billy never stopped. He only ran on until he had gained the hold where his mother was and had given the nice, cool lettuce to her, when he turned round to hurry away.
"Wait a minute, Billy!" she called after him. "I want to talk to you."
"I haven't got time," Billy called back over his shoulder. "I've got a little business with the cook."
When Billy got back into the cook's galley, the cook was over in a corner reaching up for some baking powder that he kept on a high shelf. He was stretched out just right for a good bump and Billy gave it to him.
"Great Scott!" cried the cook, and jumped up until his head bumped the shelf. He quickly turned around but Billy had backed off and now jumped for him again. This time the man put out his hands and caught Billy by the horns firmly enough to keep the bump Billy gave him in front from smashing him. Billy, however, jerked away and backed off for another bump, and the man, jumping up, grabbed the shelf with the foolish notion of climbing up out of range. He could not have been in a better position for another bump behind, so Billy gave him that one and he dropped loose from the shelf, yelling for help with all his might. In dropping, he turned around, and this time Billy landed with all his weight right in the middle of the man's appetite.
By this time the cook had lost his head so that all he could do was to spread his arms and legs like an old-fashioned, jointed doll and yell for help. Several men came running down the ladder and the foremost one was Hans Zug with his whip. Hans had just been over to straighten out a fight in the goats' pen, and when he saw one of his goats butting the cook, he never stopped to think that it was the same Billy he had been petting and praising, so he hauled off and gave Billy a mighty slash with his sharp leather whip. Billy got through with the cook in a hurry!
So Hans Zug, who had been following him around and patting him on the back and calling him nice goat and fine goat and brave goat, was ready to start in again, was he? Well, Billy would show him! Like a flash he wheeled and was after Hans.
"Donnervetter!" cried Hans, and turned to run.
The men who had followed him down the steps were in the way, however, and Hans ran square into them. A second later Billy ran into Hans with enough force to send him sprawling among the men, and four or five of them went to the floor grunting, with Hans on top. Before Billy could back off for another stroke Hans turned quickly and was just in time to grab Billy by the fore legs. At the same moment the cook caught Billy by the hind legs, and these two carried him upstairs to the deck.
"Over he goes," yelled the angry cook.
"Sure!" said Hans. "He done it to me. Ein! swei! drei!"
As Hans counted his one, two, three in German, they gave three mighty swings, and with the last one they let go.
Splash! went Billy into the sea!
