Day ten. Are there tigers here?

My God, just now in the woods I saw a creature of dazzling colors, with a long tail that looked exactly like a tiger’s. How could there be a tiger here? I had checked carefully—I haven’t seen any droppings from large animals these past few days. None at all! I was terrified.

I found a tree and began climbing, using the branches for support...

A roar.

A tiger’s roar! I was certain of it. That deep, thunderous sound struck my heart with a heavy blow. My heart spasmed violently, my legs nearly gave out beneath me and I almost fell.

Another roar!

It was closer. I felt my bladder contract in terror. It must be right behind me now. In panic, I scrambled upward with all my might.

Another roar. The deafening sound crashed into my ears, leaving my eardrums throbbing. I could clearly feel a massive paw pressing down on my calf. The pain spurred me to struggle harder—I kicked wildly with my legs and clung desperately to the branches, hauling myself up with every ounce of strength.

I’ve said before, I fear death, but I fear even more being torn apart and devoured alive. Who could calmly accept such a fate?

At last, with my chest pressed against a branch, I managed to pull myself onto another bough. Just as I tried to catch my breath, the next scene nearly made my soul flee my body.

It was climbing the tree!

It was getting closer and closer. With every inch it gained, death drew nearer to me. I didn’t want to be dragged down. I could almost feel those ten-centimeter fangs piercing my skin, tearing through muscle, grinding bone—a fate worse than death.

I looked frantically around for something to fend it off. The branches were all too thick, useless as weapons. All I could do was kick at it with all my strength, desperate to knock it back.

A ripping sound—my skin, under its sharp claws, was sliced as easily as bean curd. Blood welled up, pooling and dripping down...

With a soft plop, my blood landed at the corner of its mouth. I saw its jaws open and close a few times; I thought I saw a hungry light flash in its eyes. It climbed faster.

I reckoned it would reach me in less than ten seconds.

No, five seconds!

Was I just supposed to give up?

No, never!

As it lowered its head to climb, I kicked out with all my might, striking its ear. The pain made it shake its head. I kicked again. This time, it lost its grip and fell.

A gasp of relief. I had bought myself a little more time.

I prayed—to Allah, to God, to the Buddha—prayed for someone to save me, or at least for the tiger to lose interest in eating me. Even though I’d never believed in any intangible faith before.

I was an atheist, but now I desperately hoped for any chance at survival.

Perhaps my prayers were answered. The tiger lifted its head and let out a long, mournful roar, then began to back away.

Thank you, I thought.

Another thunderous roar—it charged at me again.

It was then that I finally realized how foolish my hope had been. It hadn’t retreated at all; it was only running up for a better leap. It closed the distance between us in an instant.

In just a few bounds, it was upon me.

I tried to climb higher, but there were no more branches to support me. All I could do was edge farther out along the limb.

The tiger quickly mounted the same branch as me.

I understood then: I was about to become its lunch.

By tomorrow, my flesh and blood would pass through its digestive system and become a pile of excrement.

Its legs bent, muscles tensed—it leapt at me.

A heavy blow struck my ear, and a warm, wet sensation spread across my face. I lost my balance, the world spinning around me.

A thud.

I crashed down hard, landing on my back. Breathing was suddenly a struggle. Each ragged breath rasped painfully from my chest.

Now, I was like a heretic awaiting judgment—or like a dish about to be tasted...

The tiger’s roar sounded behind me. I knew it was preparing to feast.

It would start with my neck, I thought.

A paw pressed down on my head.

I tried to push it off. Even with all my strength, I couldn’t budge it an inch.

Despair.

Coldness.

Wrapped around me.

“Damn it, just do it! Here, look—right here!” My mental defenses completely collapsed. The last spark of will to live was snuffed out. I pointed to my throat and screamed at the beast.

It leaned in. Its hot, foul breath washed over my face.

I squeezed my eyes shut, fists clenched so tightly my nails dug into my palms, but I felt nothing.

Its jaws opened.

I could smell its fetid breath.

I screamed in pain as it bit down on my arm. One paw pinned my forehead, another pressed on my chest. It shook its head violently, trying to tear my flesh from bone.

Every muscle in my body trembled. I realized then I wasn’t as calm as I’d imagined—I was terrified.

A sickening snap. I groaned in agony, not daring to open my eyes.

I didn’t want to see my mangled body, or the flesh and bone it was devouring.

But I could feel it—my arm must have been torn away.

I could sense my blood, coursing through my body, suddenly finding an outlet, surging out from my wound.

Warmth, searing pain, numbness.

So this is what being torn apart feels like!

At last, it went for my throat.

I couldn’t breathe; it must have bitten through my windpipe.

I felt my senses growing dull, the pain receding into the distance.

I thought I must be dead.

...

A guttural sound escaped my throat.

I woke up.

It was completely dark.

I didn’t even know where I was.

Frantically, I felt over my body.

I was intact! Hadn’t I already been eaten by the tiger? Hadn’t I died?

Staring at the stars scattered across the night sky, I fell into deep thought.

At last, I remembered—perhaps this was the cause.

I took a handful of pale red berries from my pocket. In the darkness, I couldn’t see them clearly. I’d found them this morning growing on a bush in the woods.

They were sweet, delicious, with a chewy texture.

I remembered eating quite a lot at once.

Not long after, my memory went blank.

It must have been those berries—they poisoned me, made me hallucinate.

A wave of relief swept over me—at least I was still alive, wasn’t I?

Exhausted, drenched in sweat, I lay in the darkness, utterly spent. My eyes closed of their own accord, and I drifted into a deep sleep.

In the haze of slumber, I thought I truly did hear something very close by—the sound of dry branches snapping underfoot, and the sensation of hot breath against my face!