“Oi boi, there is big trouble!” the old man said, shaking his head. There is a tiger living in the reeds here. A big tiger. Our jigits wanted to kill him, they looked for him everywhere, but he is hiding. In the night he kills our sheep, horses” — the axakal was bending his fingers, counting — “and even a child he did kill.”
“Where is his den?”
“We don’t know. Our men are afraid to go into the reeds which we need very much. We just don’t know where his den is.”
Butakov fell to thinking. Hunting a tiger on foot would end in nothing. He had to have a talk with Cavalry Captain Chortorogov.
“Would you please see me again the day after tomorrow,” the lieutenant said. “By that time we’ll think of something.”
When the Kazakhs left, Butakov immediately had a talk with the Cossack officers, b
