BASED ON A TRUE STORY OF THE WORST MAN-EATER IN HISTORYThe Tigress of Champawat
In the early 1900s, a wounded Bengal tigress descended from the Himalayan foothills and turned to killing humans. Between 1900 and 1907 she claimed at least 436 lives—an unprecedented reign of terror that emptied villages and left fields to rot.
Set in Nepal, 1902, this novel plunges into the true story of survival inside a besieged mountain village. Families barricade their terraces, mourn their dead, and debate flight or endurance while the tigress tests their walls each night. Through the eyes of Kamala, her husband Kiran, their children, and the headman’s council, we witness the psychological toll of grief carved into silence, mothers binding rope with bloodied hands, fathers standing posts until their bodies fail.
The terror drives the beast across the border into India, 1907, where a reluctant hunter named Jim Corbett is summoned. Corbett’s pursuit, marked by restraint and guilt, builds to the infamous ten-hour chase that ended the man-eater’s rampage.
Both harrowing and historically exact, The Tigress of Champawat is a work of true-crime horror that honors the villagers who endured the siege and the hunter who ended it—while exposing the deeper this tigress was not born a man-eater. She was made one, by wounds, by human neglect, and by a land strained between survival and loss.
For readers of true crime, historical horror, and survival narratives, this is the definitive novel of the deadliest man-eater in recorded history.
Seldom have I eagerly awaited a book since seeing it announced on Facebook, and seldom have I been so disappointed when I got it. I saved it for my train trip to York, and we’d barely reached Peterborough before I know it was going to turn out not to be what I’d hoped for. It contains many inaccuracies- a dead character reappears briefly a few pages later, then is never mentioned again, there’s mention of someone holstering a rifle, and the author invents offspring for the tigress that never existed. Then there’s the declaration in the foreword that this will be no book about a mystical killer animal, and yet, that’s exactly what it turns out to be.
I’m sure there’s a great fictionalised account of this extraordinary story to be written, but it is not this one.