But the tiger just then seemed to be in a magnanimous mood.

Possibly he was satiated with what he had already devoured in the way of horses, men, women, and children.

Be that as it may, the farmer and his team never suspected their peril, if, in point of fact, any peril threatened them.
The animals jogged along, with the man half asleep on the front seat, his idle whip sloping over his shoulder.

The king of the jungle made not the least demonstration against them.
"That must be 'cause he isn't hungry," remarked Jim.
"Then I should think he would go away and leave us." "Don't you understand?
We're tender, and juicier than that old man." "Jingo! if that's what he's after, I'm going to shoot." Tom again sighted along the barrel; but at the moment his finger began pressing the trigger, the beast rose to his feet and looked directly at the house, as if trying to decide the best avenue of entering,--the door, the windows, or possibly the chimney.
He formed a striking picture, this fearful king of the jungle, whose terrific strength, as scientific tests have proven, is one-fifth greater than that of the African lion.

His massive head was erect; his eyes shone, and his sinewy, graceful body, covered with its soft, velvety and spotted fur was like the beauty of some deadly serpent.