THE JUNGLES OF CHOTA NAGPUR ii 



my feet and in front. Slowly and yet slower we moved 

 forward, Bishu slightly to my right. The ground dropped 

 gently to the stream, and I had approached to within 

 twenty yards of the bank when away on the opposite side 

 I suddenly perceived the bison. My breath came short 

 and sharp, and then I seemed to cease to breathe altogether, 

 whilst my heart pounded like a sledge-hammer. It was the 

 first solitary bull I had had a full, clear view of in its native 

 jungles. Its bulk staggered me, for the animal stood 

 almost broadside on beneath a great tree, wholly in view 

 save for the hooves and part of the white stockings. Ye 

 gods ! What a sight the great fellow was ! 



Have you ever seen one under such conditions ? If not 

 I fear I cannot help you to realize his full beauty ; for 

 words fail to adequately portray it. They can but feebly 

 convey the colossal total of his massive " points." Eighteen 

 hands — and this specimen stood well over that — of coal- 

 black beauty shining like satin on the back and sides, 

 where the light filtering through the branches struck him, 

 with four clean white stockings from the knee downwards. 

 On to this enormous bulk the great head and thick, 

 short neck were set, the frontal bone high, covered with 

 whitish yellowish hair, the curved horns thick, much 

 corrugated at their bases and blunted at their tips. Such 

 was the sight upon which I gazed with a palpitating heart. 

 As he stood there he was not more than forty to fifty yards 

 distant, his tail swinging lazily from side to side as he 

 flicked away the flies. 



For a few seconds I stared at the bison, fascinated at the 

 grand sight, and then slowly sank on one knee and brought 

 the heavy ten-bore " Paradox " rifle I carried to bear on the 

 shoulder. The rifle was a weighty one and I recognized 

 that I was feeling fagged after the day's exertions, and so, 

 with a deep-drawn breath, I let the barrels sink slowly 

 down till the sights made a bead on the shoulder and im- 

 mediately pressed the trigger. There was a loud roar as 

 the six drams of powder propelled the heavy bullet forward 

 and a thick cloud of smoke enveloped everything. But the 

 roar was followed almost instantaneously by a second, as 

 the left barrel, which was at full cock, jarred off with the 

 concussion of the first. It was a habit this rifle had, as I 

 was to discover later on several occasions, until I learnt 

 to remember to cock only one trigger at a time. The 



