8 DIARY OF A SPORTSMAN NATURALIST 



couple of minutes' breather being called I flung myself 

 down on to the cool green turf. 



Then we took up the trail again. Soon a rocky ravine 

 opened out in front, and the brook, which had been 

 running so decorously down the quiet reach, became 

 a brawling, turbulent torrent once again. The tracks 

 proceeded up the rocky side of the ravine, and we had to 

 take to hard climbing ; for the bed of the stream now 

 dropped in a series of giant steps, over which the brilliant, 

 sparkling water tumbled in beautiful foaming cascades. 

 High above stretched the great forest, the boles of the trees 

 rearing up straight on either side, their crowns forming a 

 gigantic dome to the rocky chasm. Here and there in the 

 rock-walls clumps of bamboo clung with precarious foothold, 

 their feathery tops gracefully drooping over the sparkling 

 water beneath ; whilst the maidenhair fern grew in drifts and 

 patches against the dark rock. 



The path which we followed, if a series of steps could be 

 entitled a path, must have been trodden through the 

 centuries by the hooves and feet of countless animals, for 

 the rock was worn down on the line the bison had taken. 

 As we mounted higher the sides of the ravine grew less 

 steep, the forest came down to meet us once more, and 

 we soon found ourselves on the edge of a sloping hill-side, 

 sparsely covered with bamboo clumps. 



Here Bishu signalled a halt, whilst he moved off to 

 prospect. I was nothing loath, for the climb in the heat 

 had been arduous, and for the time being I was pretty 

 well done and was only too glad to stretch myself out for 

 a few minutes in the shade of a clump of bamboos. The 

 interlude was brief. Within a quarter of an hour Bishu 

 appeared, and on his ugly physiognomy was the broad 

 smile I had learnt to interpret as the near presence of the 

 animal we were stalking. Getting silently to my feet I 

 seized the rifle, cocked it and prepared to follow the shikari. 

 Very slowly we moved forward, skirting in and out of the 

 bamboo clumps, every inch of the ground being studied 

 before the foot was set down. For I had learnt that the 

 slightest unusual sound at this stage would mean the 

 alarm and flight of the bison. We may have gone a quarter 

 of a mile, it may have been less, when Bishu stretched 

 out an arm. Eagerly looking in the direction indicated I 

 tried to make out what my companion saw. For a frantic 



