798 JOURNAL, BOMBAY NATURAL HISTORY SOCIETY, Vol. XIX, 



bnt I like to have plenty of time over a light breakfast, as I shall not 

 eat again until 12 noon ; also there is a long tramp before the shooting 

 gronnd is readied : 5-15, and I am ready for the khud side. My two 

 companions for the day are a sturdy hill native and a little brown 

 and white spaniel, the sort so common among the men in the British 

 regiments in the Punjab. She was selected when six weeks old, and 

 commenced her training shortly afterwards, and is now almost perfect 

 as a gun dog. The brilliant moon which now lights our way as we 

 SGramb!e up a narrow hill-path was not in evidence when I retired to 

 bed at 10-30 last evening, but now it is so bright that even under 

 the trees we are not quite at a loss to follow the narrow path. The hill 

 man goes first, as in spite of numerous tramps of this kind, I know 

 the native of the soil will follow the main path much belter than 1 

 can, and will lead me to our destination in spite of various cattle 

 tracks that criss cross our road, which is after all only a rather larger 

 cattle track. The average hill native has an eye for hilly country 

 that the British-born ruler of the land will seldom equal in spite of 

 much practice. It is not surprising, as most of us are broaght up 

 under widely differenL circumstances. 



In the meantime, we have travelled a loncj wav, and the stars in the 

 East are paling and the moon begins to have a washed-out appear 

 ance ; however, we can take it easy now, as we are quite high up 

 enough for the kokltiss. A few minutes later and the small birds 

 begin to chirp and along the crest of the hill we are on, comes a 

 resh breeze in fitful gusts, the usual harbinger of dawn at these 

 ultitndcs. It will die away soon, and in fine weather the leaves hardly 

 stir again until the evening. The breeze brings down a few brown 

 and curled silver birch leaves, making one think of autumn, and I 

 eould wish many more of other kinds were down as well. 



We push on a bit and reach a small plateau, the head of three 

 nullahs, and now as th(5 light grows stronger, every moment we 

 sit down to listen, hoping to hear the prate, ])rate of the koklass 

 somewhere below us, and shortly after the wail of the last marauding 

 jackal has died away, far down in the valley below, we hear the longed- 

 for sound, something like, only far softer than that emitted by the bazaar 

 moorghi, when she is looking for a place to deposit her egg, not 

 like the cackle she makes when it is laid. Now we must be as quick 

 as possible, or this will be the only brood we shall hear calling. We 



