Meeting a stranger

Today I am and look around in the town center in Mumbai. Suddenly, an old man behind me and ask me: "Swedish ?" I answer: "Yes" Then he starts to talk a little weird Swedish with me, he invited me over to his house for a cup of caffe. As we sat there at the table and drank coffee, I saw a scar that ran from his cheek down to his neck. I just had to ask what happened. He laughed a little bit. Then the story begins. 

It was me and my brother Tyson. We both were poachers. We were looking for tiger skins. We found a female tiger. But what we did not know was that she had two kids with her, I brought directly up my sight and shot the tiger cub, which was foolish. The mother rushed Tyson, tearing, biting, I took the sight and missed her when she went for me, she had me in her mouth, I felt her big tooth through the cheek, suddenly I heard a bang! It Tyson with his last strength that shot the female, Tyson died thereafter. So that was how I got my scar.