SPORT IN EASTERN BENGAL 107 



in this district, merely taking up the best position from 

 which we could command the area of our fire. 



For a space all was silent. The men were in a heavy 

 piece of forest and not even the yapping of the dogs, who 

 rarely ran silent, was audible. I could not see my neighbour 

 to the left, but on the right the next rifle was easily visible 

 on the top of a ridge some way above me and about two 

 hundred yards distant. 



As I waited I suddenly heard a loud flapping of wings, 

 and two large black hornbills flew over the line between 

 the right gun and myself. I had a rifle in my hand and so 

 did not fire, but my neighbour did so, without result. 



Soon after the noise of the beat came to our ears and 

 now and then a yap, yap from the submerged dogs, 

 hot on a scent. I had set my heart on the old boar. I 

 thought I should like to have the tushes of the hoary old 

 sinner, even if they were not earned by riding him down. 

 From the row proceeding in the jungle and the occasional 

 vociferations from the coolies there was evidently game, 

 and a good deal of game, afoot. The sudden sharp crack 

 of a rifle to the left followed by a second produced frantic 

 enthusiasm amongst the beaters and a stentorian voice 

 was heard to shout, " Beat, beat, brothers. Beat, you 

 lazy rascals. The sahibs are killing. There will be meat 

 for all." The owner of that voice, costume and all, could 

 have made a fortune on the halls at home. 



Suddenly a heavy rush in the slight hollow to my right 

 and a dark-coloured body plunged across the ride. Up 

 went my rifle, but it was a doe sambhar. Another rush 

 behind, I swung round. A sambhar, I think a doe, was 

 half in the jungle on my side of the ride, another was in 

 the middle of the ride, whilst a third, a stag with a moderately 

 good head as it turned out (I had not the time to decide 

 the point then), had just left the jungle on the far side of 

 the ride. I raised the rfle and snapped at him. I heard the 

 bullet hit as I fired the second barrel and he dropped on the 

 edge of the jungle on our side of the ride and lay there. One 

 of the two men I had with me, a Mahomedan, rushed up 

 the ride and " hal-lalled " or cut the throat of the stag, to 

 let the blood flow, though I am sure the stag was quite 

 dead before he got up to him. 



Meanwhile a terrific commotion was going on in the jungle 

 in front of me. Voices were raised in anger, jubilation and 



