A dying animal trainer releases his pregnant tigress Ranee and her mate Mohan into an English forest near the vast moors. The beasts have spent their eight or nine years of life in cages and know nothing else. On their own, disoriented by space and freedom, they roam about the night until their hunting instinct suddenly blooms and drives them to kill a man, deer and sheep, and some girls. At last a tiger hunt begins, led by Birk who grew up stalking tigers in India. Unfortunately, as in Jaws, the chapters about the deadly glory of the killers are spelled with chapters about boring and banal humans--townfolk, thickheaded policemen, reporters, all as ill-drawn as Benchley's bunglers. And over the moors the song of the box office choirs all night long, each gobbled girl a solid chime on the ticket machine.