THE HIGHER NART5ADA. 339 



than diminish, the sense of quietness in tlic scene. 

 Immense numbers of peafowl live on the banks. Tlii.'j 

 is the season of their loves, and almost every bare knoll 

 may be seen covered with a Hock of tliem, tlie liens 

 sitting demurely in the centre, while the cocks rufile 

 out their magnificent plumage, and spread tlieir gorgeous 

 trains, and waltz round and round them in a most 

 absurd f^ishion. The boatmen are fond of tryino- to 

 catch them when absorbed in this dance of love ; and, 

 though I have never seen one actually secured, I have 

 seen an active fellow get so near as to pluck some 

 feathers from the tail of the collapsed and retreatin^T 

 swain. No riotous sounds offend the ear in this peaceful 

 valley. The Koel, bird of the morning, raises now and 

 then his staccato note from some overhanging tree, or 

 the giant Sarus crane floats his tremulous cry alono- the 

 calm surface of the lake-like river. 



But hark ! From a clump of tangled bamboos, over- 

 hanging the mouth of a little burn that joins the river, 

 rings the loud bellow of a spotted buck. The boatman 

 sticks his long pole down to the bottom, and anchors 

 the dug-out, while the sportsman, with cocked rifle, 

 watches in the bow. Presently a rustle and a motion 

 in the fringe of bright-green jaman bushes that edge the 

 river, and the head and shoulders of a noble buck 

 emerge, one fore-foot advanced hesitatingly to the strip 

 of yellow sand beside the water. Another instant and 

 he stands, a statue of grace and beauty, on the open 

 beach. Now he has seen the boat, and his careless mien 

 is changed for an attitude of intense regard. IMotionless, 

 head thrown up, and antlers sweeping his flanks, he 

 might be photographed for the second or two he stands 

 at gaze. In an instant more he will wheel round and 

 plunge into the thicket, unless stopped by the deadly 



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