A JUNGLE RECOLLECTION. 173 



seconds his form, lately so instinct with life, lay 

 motionless. The victor, after smelling the prostrate 

 carcase as if to make certain that life had departed, 

 turned away, and advanced towards the tigress, 

 who had remained stretched at full length on the 

 ground, watching with half shut eyes the conflict 

 between the males. As he approached I could see 

 that blood trickled from several gashes on his neck 

 and fore quarters, though he appeared to have 

 suffered no material injury. Now, I thought, was 

 the best time for a shot, so taking a steady aim 

 behind the shoulder, I pulled the trigger. The 

 report of the rifle was answered by a loud roar of 

 mingled rage and pain, and the wounded tiger 

 springing furiously forwards alighted close by the 

 root of the tree on which I was seated. I may here 

 remark that a tiger, generally speaking, when fired 

 at from a tree seems to have no idea of looking for 

 his enemy among the branches, but in nine cases 

 out of ten bounds blindly forward if wounded. 

 This makes tiger-shooting on foot so hazardous a 

 pursuit, for when the hunter is plainly seen by the 

 infuriated animal his life is in most imminent 

 danger, for few wounds prove immediately fatal to 

 a tiger, and prevent his making a charge. In my 

 case, however, the tiger, when he alighted on the 

 ground, by chance caught sight of me, and sprung 

 at the tree with a savage roar; my shot had struck 



