i;o RIFLE AND ROMANCE 



upwards again like a hawk, alighted softly on the gnarled 

 trunk of a kowa tree ; its mate, answering its curiously 

 harsh cry, followed suit, and, as they disappeared in the 

 grey twilight, it struck me that I had lost a chance of 

 adding a flying squirrel to my collection. Their flight was 

 wonderfully easy and graceful, and they must have covered 

 about fifty yards clear from tree to tree. 



A sluice in the clear water, and a bite of food was 

 followed by the matutinal cigarette, as the hair and 

 splashes of blood on the boulders were examined ; and then 

 a start was made. 



The tracks led uphill into an extremely thickly jungled 

 little khora. We passed a spot where the tiger had rolled 

 in agony, while his erratic course and the bits of white 

 hair from his chest on any stumps or rocks in his 

 way showed us all was well. As the men picked up the 

 easily read trail, I kept a sharp Ibok-out ahead, rifle at the 

 ready ; and so we crept along, under some bushes, round 

 a rock here, through a tangle of small bamboos there, 

 until at last there he lay on his side, thirty yards away, 

 apparently quite dead. 



Turning silently to the men, I motioned the Korkus 

 back, tipped a wink to Abbas Khan, and took the little 

 white patch under the forearm. Over the smoke a huge 

 tawny form rose up, glared in our direction, and then all 

 was a chaos of gleaming teeth, viciously laid back ears, 

 and flying leaves, as we darted behind a thick tree. Round 

 he came ; rolling, falling, rising, doing his best to get at us, 

 when another bullet caught him in the back and all was 

 over. 



When the shivering Korkus had come off their trees, 

 we turned the tiger over, and saw that last night's bullet 

 had struck full in the chest, but, owing to my raised 

 position, had merely run along not far below the skin. It 

 was subsequently found lodged below the stomach. To my 

 surprise he measured nine feet as he lay. 



