228 RIFLE AND ROMANCE 



sphere look almost toy-like, miniatures of mountain land, 

 yet the former are nearly 2,500 feet above us, and that 

 little ravine seaming their sides is four miles long. The 

 country rises gradually to the foot-hills, and the crops grow 

 less thickly as we approach them. Some open fallow land 

 succeeds the tall jawdri fields. There stands a herd of 

 antelope, absurdly tame at this chill hour, as, huddled 

 together, they gaze at the passing rider the buck, though 

 black, is not possessed of a head sufficiently good to tempt 

 us. The hills begin to throw out long steep spurs ; their 

 hard outlines become softened by the jungle now dis- 

 tinguishable on their slopes. The little clump of mhowa 

 trees at Belkhera comes into view a mile or two away. We 

 shall leave our ponies there and strike up the long glen on 

 foot. 



This section of the hills is more rugged but less densely 

 jungled than the loftier flat-topped ranges towards the west 

 and interior. In the hot weather it is almost waterless, 

 and the game has then receded to the regular forest coun- 

 try ; but at this time of year it provides ideal shelter to 

 animals, such as the sambar, bear, panther, and smaller 

 game, which seem to prefer it to the now thick green 

 jungles of the forest reserve. 



Very plentiful are sdmbar this year. The forebodings 

 caused by the havoc which the famine of 1900 undoubtedly 

 caused among them appear to have been too gloomy, for 

 there seems to be a goodly stock of hinds each with a 

 fawn and stags are about, too, as many peeled trees 

 testify. 



We pursue almost the same track up the Belkhera glen 

 as we did that morning on our way to look up the man- 

 eating panther. 



Now we are steadily toiling up the steep thousand feet 

 of the Tor Ghat. When we sit down for a breather half- 

 way up there is borne to the ear through six miles of clear 

 dry atmosphere a faint and distant Tupp ! Tupp ! of 



