The Takahe Stud

Press, 31 May 1977, Page 18

The Takahe Stud

“I wish Dad hadn’t decided to hunt the tiger himself,” muttered a worried Penny, as she watched her father ride out. Some time later Garth dismounted and standing at the foot of the moun-

tain wherin Sheba had her lair, he thought: “The inspector followed her here, then she disappeared. Perhaps there was an old tunnel.” He pressed against a bush and felt it give under his pressure. “That’s it!” he cried.

Leaving his horse, Garth began to climb the mountain, trying to be as quiet as possible. He was fully aware the tiger could be in her lair; in fact, he hoped she was.

At last he reached the top of the mountain. Traces of blood led him to the second entrance of Sheba’s hiding-place. “No wonder the inspector couldn’t catch her. She simply e ntered here, made her way down through the mountain, and departed by way of the opening at its bottom. But this ought to move her.” So saying, Garth hurredly set alight the bush covering the entrance to the tiger's lair.

“Here’s hoping I'm right,” muttered Garth, as he swiftly made his way down the mountain. Behind him, black smoke was already billowing skywards.

As Garth had hoped, the smoke drifting into Sheba’s lair disturbed the resting tiger. A short time later, the bushes at the foot of the mountain parted and the angry face of the tiger appeared.

Garth, his silhouette broken by the branches of a tree, waited. “Come on,” he muttered, “just a little bit more.” His finger tightened on the trigger.

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