The Maneater - A short story

NOTE: The tiger uses they/them, but they're fine with he/him and she/her. 

When they did it, they knew there was no turning back.

Humans had this nice, buffalo-like taste. As a cub, they’d heard stories of relatives who’d grown to relish people and ended up dead. The stories were supposed to put them off of eating humans, and it generally worked. But they just had to. The forest they grew up in was being cut down by humans for reasons they could never really understand. It was time for them to move to one of the hill-towns in search of more food.

Unfortunately, their upper-left canine was cracked because of a misguided attack on a gaur. They spotted a herd of deer nearby. Attempting to latch their teeth onto one of the older ones was painful, and the old deer kicked them away, so they knew it was time for them to eat easier prey.

They lay in the thick bush by the field, watching the grass-cutters work. There was one nearby. It seemed too simple, almost like a trap. But they were hungry, and the grass-cutter seemed like their last hope. So, with the wind in their favour, they lunged for the kill. Then a shout from behind. Someone had seen them. Tensing up their body, they ran nau-do-gyara for the forest. Oh no, they thought. It was only fear that kept them from roaring confusedly into the evening.

If the humans who saw them told more of their kind, which they would, the message would be carried faster than a langur’s alarm call. And they knew what humans thought of them; a bloodthirsty abomination covered in stripes that had to be destroyed. The human species was very good at destruction. They doubted if they’d make it past the next spring.

Four days later, the sounds of a large, human-carrying jeep filled the forest.

Forest officials.

It was over.

No more time was to be lost in escaping them than necessary. They knew routes through the forest humans would not take. Through a ravine, above rocks, into a dense bush, every turn to avoid the human people. The sun was lowering in the sky as their sense of safety increased slightly. And then footsteps. Loud, human footsteps. There was no more they could do to help themself get to safety. They jumped out into more open territory.

The humans followed, holding a familiar object. It was called a “gun”. It was aimed at them. Were they going to die just because they were hungry and had a tooth problem? They turned and fled, but a searing pain penetrated their shoulder. Was this the end? As the world began to feel odd and sleep seemed inviting, they tried to get up. It was hard, but they managed it. It would all end when they fell asleep.

Going towards a place where it would be sensible to attack from, they tried lunging at a human, feeling their strength dulled by whatever the humans shot them with, and landed on one, clawing the biped. And another searing, but on their thigh. Two people were conversing about something, holding something they felt was one of the things that pierced them. They roared, and then felt highly drowsy. Lightning flashed behind their eyes, and there was no more resisting closing them. 

And then the world went black.

And then they felt themself regaining their senses.

What had happened? Was there a life beyond death? Did they die or was it just sleep? They felt the hard ground beneath them. It was grey. A grey they’d never seen before. No, that was not right. They’d seen it ONCE before. In what was once the forest they were born in. What did the other tigers call this? The word awakened them upon remembering it.

“Concrete”.

It was a human word, a human substance, a human colour.

They were still alive, but the humans had taken them away somewhere. And then they realised their tooth wasn’t paining any longer. These humans didn’t want to hurt them after all. But they were surrounded by concrete below, concrete above, concrete on three sides, and cold, shiny, hard sticks were the only surface not covered by the grey, human-made rocks. This was not a way they could escape.

Humans tasted good, better than sambhar, but eating more humans would cause more trouble, which they didn’t want. And they could kill sambhar now, but they were stuck inside some kind of inescapable cave. Then the hard sticks lifted with a sound like a bird in pain, and they sprinted out for freedom. But the long passage ahead had more hard sticks blocking it off, and a goat.

A goat!

Bringing the goat down with a bite, they began eating without pain or trouble. Their tooth was, truly, fixed. However, even though the humans didn’t kill them, this new trap they were in didn’t seem much better. No space to run around, nowhere to spray their scent, just concrete everywhere. And now that the goat was only chewed bones, there was no other game to pursue. They turned and resigned to the not-much-of-a-future ahead of them.

An uncertain amount of time, perhaps a few days, later, the cold sticks behind the goat lifted with their horrible shriek. Then more shrieks. The humans were creating a way out for them! They tentatively trotted towards daylight. It was extremely bright, but they touched grass. It was hotter than their mountainous home, and wetter, but there were trees. And bamboo. And soil. And the trap cave now looked like a real wall of stone. And other tigers.

But people were there. Lots of people. Loud people. And blinding light from some of them. The maneater spoke to one of the tigers, who told them not to mind the people and that the humans were there to see them. They thought “There to see me?” They walked towards one of the small bamboo thickets and hid. Another tiger told them it was okay to be shy of the humans and that it was easier to ignore them. Good.

So now they could redirect their mind to wondering if this new place, being overseen by people, was better than the wild. It certainly was calmer, and it had people who fixed teeth, but it couldn’t replace the forests and everything they had that was unique. Not even the birds that flew around there were the same.

But they’d just have to put up with it. 

-Survogel 

(Photo taken by my mother. It is copyrighted, so ask me [and, subsequently, her] if you want to use it.) 

(Spoilers for the story if you haven't read it: The tiger was taken to the Rajiv Gandhi Zoological Park after the Forest Department tranquilised them. I originally intended to write their character as the Champawat Maneater, but I decided not to.) 

(And the photo was taken at that same zoo.)