IN THE BERARS— MY FIRST TIGER 75 



the cart-road where all would be plain sailing, when the 

 orderly, who was leading at a good round pace, faltered in 

 his stride, went on, hesitated again, took a few more steps 

 forward, and then came to a dead stop and volunteered the 

 information that we were on the wrong road. My castles 

 began to fall, but I was in too good a frame of mind to allow 

 them to cnimple quite to pieces, and I tramped for twenty 

 weary minutes behind the man, while he tried various 

 directions in search of the road. I only kept my eyes or 

 rather attention fixed on the direction we had come from, 

 but I soon gave that up as hopeless, as it was terribly dark 

 and the thick mist made it impossible to see the ground 

 even at one's feet at all plainly. The rain was steadily 

 falling and the wind blew pitilessly through my bones, for 

 we were apparently on the summit of an open down with 

 small scrub jungle here and there in patches ; at least I 

 gathered this to be the position of affairs by running into 

 the said patches at intervals. I began to have visions of a 



night passed on the hills in a thin khaki shooting suit 



with no food or drink (there was plenty of the latter it is true, 

 but my vitiated taste required, I fear, something stronger) 

 — and even my tiger began to recede slightly from its 

 prominent position in my thoughts as my imagination 

 pictured only too vividly the realities of the situation. 



At length the man seemed completely at fault, and I 

 suggested that we should go back to the place where we 

 had first lost the way, if we could find it, on which point I 

 had grave doubts, and make a cast round there. This we 

 proceeded to do. On the way we came upon a dark-looking 

 line running at right angles to the direction in which we 

 were moving, and my companion, after kneeling down and 

 examining it, pronounced it to be our path. Heaven only 

 knows how he knew, but he turned sharp to the right and 

 trotted on. I followed, fearing every moment to see him 

 check again. He held steadily on, however, and proved 

 correct, for we came to a slightly broader track full of 

 sharp-cornered trap-rock stones which, from its vile nature, 

 I had marked down on the way up in the afternoon. Bad 

 indeed was the walk down that path, which wound in zigzag 

 fashion down the hill to the cart-road below, and throwing 

 dignity to the winds I, in many places, took to the methods 

 of our remote ancestors and went on all fours. The weary 

 two-and-a-half-mile tramp along the cart-road I do not 



