LETTER XXIV. LAST SHOOT 



SIMLA, June 2 ist, 1913. 



DURING the melancholy process of packing I have 

 come upon this letter, written three months ago, 

 which for some unknown reason eluded the mail. 



April 2ist, 1913. This is the first time since the 

 Delhi drama that I have been able to absent my- 

 self from the seat of government, which is a 

 grandiloquent manner of saying it is the first 

 occasion on which I have been able to allow 

 myself a ten days' holiday. 



It is to that good sportsman and excellent 

 Forest Officer James William Best, Lord Wynford's 

 son,* that I owe my last shot at a tiger. He 

 arranged the expedition for me, my last in India. 



I left Delhi on April 4th for Bisalpur, in the 

 Central Provinces, where the heat was almost 

 past bearing; central India is just now a fiery 

 furnace. Best met me and we started on our 

 twenty-four mile elephant ride, reaching the camp 

 at 6 in the afternoon. My tent was very com- 

 fortable, but water was scanty and bad, our soda- 

 water having gone astray. 



The camp, situated in Khondra Forest, was not 

 very far from a pool surrounded by black rocks, 

 the approach to it reminding me somewhat of the 

 Glen of Weeping, Glencoe. 



* See Appendix^! . 

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