And down the dunes a thousand guns lie crouched,
Unseen, beside the flood —
Like tigers in some Orient jungle crouched
That wait and watch for blood.
--
"Charleston", st. 4–5Henry Timrod
The buffalo never attacks, however, except when wounded. Even the largest droves (the opinion of some travelers to the contrary notwithstanding), though in the wildest career, are easily turned from their course by a single man who may intercept their way. I have crouched in the tall grass in the direct route of a frighted gang, when, firing at them on their near approach, they would spread in consternation to either side. Still their advance is somewhat frightful — their thundering rumble over the dry plain — their lion-like fronts and dangling beards — their open mouths and hanging tongues — as they come on, puffing like a locomotive engine at every bound, does at first make the blood settle a little heavy about the heart.
Josiah Gregg
Mute in the clamour of shells he watched them burst
Spouting dark earth and wire with gusts from hell,
While posturing giants dissolved in drifts of smoke.
He crouched and flinched, dizzy with galloping fear,
Sick for escape,— loathing the strangled horror
And butchered, frantic gestures of the dead.Siegfried Sassoon
The jungle is life itself. A thousand times more alive than anything you've ever seen. We didn't go there to be a part of it. We invaded it. We shaved the jungle and made a stinking camp in the middle of it. Radios blaring. It was disgusting.
Klaus Kinski
They glanced at one another like tigers taking measure of a menacing new rival. But in this kind of jungle you could never be sure where the real danger lurked.
Erich Segal
With silent strides Odysseus then shot back the bolt,
passed lightly through the courtyard and sped down the street.
Some saw him take the graveyard's zigzag mountain path,
some saw him leap on rocks that edged the savage shore,
some visionaries saw him in the dead of night
swimming and talking secretly with the sea-demons,
but only a small boy saw him in a lonely dream
sit crouched and weeping by the dark sea's foaming edge.Nikos Kazantzakis
Timrod, Henry
Tinctoris, Johannes
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