JS Naturalist at Large 



disappeared. Just then a perfectly magnificent tiger walked 

 out from one of these clumps of bushes and stalked away- 

 over the open grass as if he were crossing a lawn, his tail 

 straight in the air, its tip flicking from side to side. Since 

 there was no particular object in running away, nor any 

 place to run to, we stood and watched him walk majes- 

 tically out of sight behind another thicket. 



A few days later the captain of our little vessel went 

 out with us to get some snipe for the pot. We got widely 

 separated, and I heard him shoot from time to time, but 

 naturally I paid no particular attention. Later on, circling 

 about to return to our meeting place, I heard a snort, and 

 a giant wild boar which he had wounded charged me on 

 three legs with an unbelievable alacrity. I realized, how- 

 ever, that I held a deadly weapon in my hand if I only shot 

 straight. I waited until he was about ten feet away and then 

 put a charge of snipe-shot straight in the middle of his fore- 

 head. He fell dead and skidded almost to my feet. The 

 charge of shot entered his skull like a soHd slug, and the 

 pressure on his brain popped out both his eyes, so that they 

 hung by their optic nerves. He never moved. Then our 

 gunbearer turned out to be a Mohammedan, so I had to 

 skin out the saddle and hindquarters and carry them back 

 to the boat. Luckily we had a Hindu cook of a caste which 

 allowed him to handle pig. In due season we dined sump- 

 tuously. 



The third event — and mind you, all this happened within 

 ten days — almost ended tragically. I was standing in a flat 

 skiff called a panchi, the butt of my double-barreled Ex- 

 press rifle resting on the thwart in front of me. The search- 



