O terror!

The tiger, in fact, had not rolled all the way down to the bottom: a large protruding rock had stopped it some twenty feet from the edge. Its claws had done the rest, and now it was there, standing against the trunk of the tree and climbing, the eyes on fire, its mouth open, hungry for blood.
And yet Robert-Robert felt less frightened this time, because the surprise wasn’t as intense, if the danger was greater.
Drawing from the excess of that very threat a truly superhuman courage, he awaited his enemy without moving, the dagger between his teeth and a pistol in each hand.
The tiger kept getting closer.
The hot breath that blew from its warm nostrils was already on Robert-Robert’s pale face, but he remained impassive, until the tiger was there, right near him, and only then did he stretch out his arm, point the barrel of his gun to the animal’s head and shoot …
O terror! The gun, whose charge had long been spoiled by the sea water, the gun did not fire!
A cold sweat ran down all the youth’s limbs.
 
Extract from Adventures of Robert-Robert, by L. Desnoyers, illustrated by F. de Courcy, 1839.