THE MAN-EATER OF BELKHERA 147 



Nothing could now be seen. It must have been 

 imagination ! 



The tree quivered again ; a faintly whitish patch was 

 very, very slowly elongating itself and becoming more 

 distinct. I got it well between the ears of my night- 

 sight. . . . 



Bang! 



As the sound of the shot went rolling and reverberating 

 through the hills, something sprang lightly off through the 

 grass. 



Dawn was surely breaking? Objects stood out more 

 distinctly, and the fainest greenish hue appeared in the 

 eastern sky. The dark outline of the old woman's cadaver 

 became clearer: its upraised hand with the stiffened 

 fingers seemed stretched out in mute appeal against the 

 indignity of the cord that bound it to the tree. Just a 

 hand, a glistening, bedewed head and trunk, and, lower 

 down ugh ! 



The faint crow of a jungle-cock came across the grey 

 depths of the valley. Dawn had come, and the man-eater 

 had escaped again. 



About six weeks later I was coming down from the hills 

 on my way home from an unsuccessful search for sambar, 

 having ordered my mare to Belkhera. As Abbas Khan 

 and I descended the foothills and approached the village, 

 we became aware of some unusual stir among the huts, 

 from which there arose a ceaseless screaming some death, 

 no doubt. I had placed my foot in the stirrup, and was 

 vaulting into the saddle, when a Korku came running up. 

 Once more had the panther taken toll of BeUkhera ! 



A buffalo-herd had been seized, while grazing his cattle 

 near the little river, not far from the village. The buffaloes 



