138 INDIAN BIG GAME 



returned, and only this year my brother-in-law 

 L. C. O. had a similar experience. I had put him 

 on to a kill, and on arriving at the spot at 10 a.m. 

 he met the tiger standing facing him ; he fired and 

 found plenty of blood. The tracks were lost owing 

 to the tiger taking to short grass on the hill-side. 

 Next day I accompanied L. C. O., and by the 

 merest chance suggested visiting the kill before 

 trying to pick up yesterday's spoor ; the kill had 

 been dragged several feet ; so that night I sat up, 

 but I was driven away by a raging monsoon 

 which threatened the collapse of my machan. 

 The following morning I found the kill had been 

 again dragged a considerable distance, and what 

 is more, the tiger only moved away on hearing 

 my approach ; the lair was hot. Very little more 

 of the carcase had been eaten, and at first sight I 

 thought that some dry reeds had been laid over 

 the remains, but a closer examination revealed 

 they were the rib bones picked as clean as if they 

 had been scraped white. 



That was the last of this tiger, for although I 

 sat up, torrents of rain and dense mist drove me 

 home, and next morning Stripes had not returned. 

 The jungle men were confident it was the wounded 

 tiger, and that there was no other about. 



The flesh remaining was hardly sufficient for a 

 meal, and one can only ascribe to his wounded 

 condition the fact that he had returned and pro- 

 tected it in the hopes of feeling fit to finish it 

 later on. 



Towards the end of May I visited my favourite 

 haunt on the foothills, and I there met with an 

 extraordinary occurrence. Seeing fresh tracks of 



