CHAPTER V 



IN THE BERARS — MY FIRST TIGER 



From Simla to Berar in the rains — Sport in Berar " played out " — A 

 rough monsoon morning in the Berar jungles — A tiger kill — Arrange to 

 go and sit up — The machan and kill — A depressing performance — 

 The crows and the feast — Weather gets worse — A weary wait— The 

 tiger appears — Removes the dead buffalo into the jungle — My 

 despair — The tiger has dinner^ — Portion of head only visible — An 

 anxious wait — Determine to risk the shot — Silence after firing — ^The 

 orderly's opinion — See stripes lying dead — The tiger's requiem and 

 the villagers' gratitude — Start for home — Lose the way — A weary 

 tramp — My friend's greeting. 



ON a gloomy morning in the month of July a train 

 was dragging its tortuous way, with much noise 

 and Httle speed, across the rain-sodden plains of 

 Central India. In a first-class compartment 

 another man and myself lay at ease on the seats. My 

 companion, just landed from the Old Country and South 

 Africa, was on his way to rejoin his regiment, stationed in 

 the part of the country to which I was bound. I had just 

 left the " Summer Capital " and the mighty Himalaya, 

 and we growled in concert at the mugginess and unpleasant 

 climate of the plains. The conversation turned on shooting, 

 as it so often does between men in India, and I questioned 



my companion as to the sport to be obtained in the 



hills in the neighbourhood of his Station, to which I was 

 bound. 



" The forest, you mean ? " was the reply. " That 



part of India is played out. Nothing to be shot there. 

 The recent drought finished off what we had left. The 



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