Joyce Melton

The sign on the gate read, "Seventeen tigers live inside this enclosure. You may not see them but they are there. DO NOT leave your vehicle or open the doors and windows. The tigers are real and dangerous."

The drive-through zoo called Lion Country Safari had already shown us many wonders. Giraffes and rhinos close enough to touch, though we had obeyed the rules and kept our doors closed and windows rolled up. The tape deck commentary began talking about tigers as I drove through the automatic gates.

Tall green grass under shade trees, even taller yellow-brown grass on sunny hillocks, but we didn't see any tigers. The tape suggested we park and wait for the tigers to make themselves seen.

I stopped the car but left the engine running so the air conditioning would continue to keep us comfortable. We looked around. No tigers.

Suddenly, a black and orange ringed tail moved. A brilliantly striped tiger lay dozing in the tall grass. How could we have missed seeing him? In the shade of one of the trees, another invisible beast yawned--four hundred pounds of unseen predator revealed in a moment.

Our eyes adjusted to looking for tigers. They lay all around us, in plain view. Unseen until we had known how to see them. Seventeen--I counted--huge black-and-orange-marked cats with snowy white belly fur lounged at their ease in tall grass and dappled shade.

They looked bored but we weren't.