THE NARBADA valley. 63 



To the beginner in Indian sport, however, there is no 

 pursuit more fascinating. The game being nearly 

 always within sight, the excitement is maintained 

 throughout the day's sport. Simple as it seems, it 

 takes a grood man and a sjood rifle to make much of 

 a bag when the antelope have been much disturbed. 

 The old hand is apt to smile at the enthusiasm of 

 the "griff" when he dilates on the glories of antelope- 

 stalking ; but the time was when he too passed through 

 the stage at which the acquisition of a particular long 

 spiral pair of horns was more to him than the wealth 

 of all the Indies, and when nothing impressed him so 

 profoundly with the vanity of all human afi'airs as the 

 miss of "a few inches" under or over, which so fre- 

 quently terminated the weary stalk. Perhaps I may 

 be allowed to quote a description of the pursuit of a 

 master buck, written many years ago, when I myself 

 was in the throes of the " buck fever." 



" I had frequently seen in my rambles over the 

 antelope plains a more than ordinarily magnificent coal- 

 black buck. I had watched him for hours through my 

 ' Dollond,' but my most laborious attempts to reach him 

 by stalking had as yet proved futile. His horns were 

 perfection, of great size, well set on, twisted and knotted 

 like the gnarled branch of an old oak-tree. As the sun 

 glanced on his sable coat, it shone like that of a race- 

 horse fit to run for the Two Thousand Guinea Stakes — 

 in fact, he w^as the heau ideal of a perfect black buck. 

 Of course, the more difficult the task appeared, the more 

 determined was I that these superb horns should be 

 mine, and that in future I would disregard every buck 

 except the one. He was constantly attended by two 

 does, to whom he confidently entrusted the duty of 



