“I will not kill the tiger,” said Father. “But I will not have it on this land.”
If Father said he would spare my tiger then I accepted his word. My breathing returned to normal and, for the first time since I had been on top of the hill, I was free to gaze upon my tiger. But it was not him.
The tiger was a female, small and young. She had fewer stripes on her back than my tiger and her ribs poked beneath her fur.
“It’s a young s**t,” said Father, “she has ranged far.” His gaze seared into me. “Myko, did you know about this tiger on our land?”
“No, Father,” I said, telling him no lie. “I have not seen this tiger before.” The tiger sat motionless in a rough cage made from fencing wood. She was docile, offering little resistance. If it wasn’t for the presence of her cubs the tiger may ha
