THE BIOGRAPHY OF A TIGER 53 



with scorched and blistered pads, slowly licking his huge 

 forearm. The spines of his rough tongue had turned 

 back the wet hide, exposing a small red circular mark ; 

 on the opposite and inner side of the swollen limb skin 

 and flesh, blown away by the shattering expansion of an 

 " express " bullet, had been licked clean. Towards evening 

 something was heard stepping in the leaves close by, and 

 the wounded tiger laid back his ears with a horrid growl 

 of menace. But 'twas only a couple of harmless spur-fowl 

 pattering about. 



That was a bad day for our tiger. Driven forward 

 twice from the friendly shelter he had sought on being 

 hit, and fired at yet once again, he had during his flight 

 narrowly escaped the fatal stroke of a big cobra that lay 

 in his path, its angry puff heard barely in time to spring 

 aside. In the bed of the stream, too, he had seen a gang 

 of his enemies the wild dogs. What if they should follow 

 him in his crippled condition ! 



It was a tiger grown remarkably astute that now, re- 

 covered of a second wound, haunted the Sfpna jungles. 

 He carefully avoided the neighbourhood of man, the 

 vicinity of jungle villages, even, for a while, the jungle 

 roads and pathways. A chance halloo of some bamboo- 

 cutter, and he would sneak off cunningly to distant spots ; 

 the sight of a grazing bullock, and his suspicions would be 

 instantly aroused. Meanwhile he lived entirely on game, 

 and confined his peregrinations to the loneliest portions 

 of the hills. The dense forests clothing the lofty ridges 

 of the Abapiir range became his favourite abode. 



But the slow cycle of the year 'once more ushered in 

 another dry season, the hill springs failed and dried, and 

 in course of time the tiger followed the exodus of the 

 other wild creatures to the lower valleys, where water still 

 lingered in a few rare pools. He still retired to the cool 



