REMINISCENCES OF JUNGLYPUR 235 



to examine the ground for blood, when, close in front, a 

 great horn tossed in the spear-grass, and a choking gasp 

 announced my good fortune at last. 



The Korkus would have it that this was our old twice- 

 met friend. If so, then there was certainly luck the third 

 time. 



He was a very old and mangy fellow, with long and half- 

 healed gashes over his brave old front, and one of his brow 

 tines had been broken near the tip in the late rutting 

 season's encounters. My extremely lucky last shot had 

 caught him far back and high up; but the liver shot is 

 scarcely less quickly fatal than a bullet through the heart, 

 and he had never reached the covert he had sought. 



The quivering of an eyelid was sufficient to satisfy my 

 orderly's conscience as, with a muttered " Bismillah illahu 

 Akbar /" the knife completed the ceremony of halldl. 



And now the declining sun gave warning that the return 

 journey should be begun. Without a moon it is awkward 

 to be overtaken by night on those rough hillsides, so with 

 a parting injunction against my next visit and the stag's 

 severed head being borne by one of the men, we hastened 

 towards home along the precipitous, wall-like saddle-backs 

 which separate the Belkhera and Barhanpnr valleys, 

 descended by twilight a narrow rocky path that falls, 

 turning and twisting, down their rugged sides, and at 

 7 p.m. found the ponies at the village. Four miles or so 

 over a stony cart track by starlight brought us to canton- 

 ments. 



In common with most wild tribes, the Korku is a timid 

 creature before a stranger, and on meeting the sahib on 

 shikar intent, often becomes so secretive that neither wild 

 horses nor even the almighty rupee would drag from him 

 any local knowledge of which he may be possessed. The 

 sportsman will find this secretiveness very baffling ; and to 

 what lengths the jungle man is capable of extending it 

 the following narrative will reveal. 



