The Maral Stag 225 



was intercepted, so I took the shot standing, 

 steadying my rifle on my stick, and had the 

 satisfaction of seeing him go tumbling down the 

 hill. He was stone dead ; but when the head 

 was brought in next day I was disappointed to 

 find he was no better than a good ten-pointer, 

 with one of his brow antlers broken off. The 

 stalk and the shot, however, gave me a deal of 

 satisfaction, as a fair stalk is a rarity in this 

 country. 



The " still hunting " to which one is con- 

 demned during the inside of the day, though 

 not without charm, is often tedious. Tracking, 

 at this time of year at any rate, is impossible, 

 and even after the heavy rain we had towards 

 the end of our trip, results were the same. The 

 rain certainly seemed to give a fresh impetus to 

 the roaring, but it seemed as if the deer, moving 

 quietly along, left no perceptible spoor percept- 

 ible, that is, to the ordinary human being. I 

 could not help thinking, however, that a certain 

 Bhil of my acquaintance could have shown these 

 people a thing or two. There was thus nothing 

 for it but to walk quietly along and trust to 

 luck. Each step had to be taken with the 

 greatest care, eyes in two places at the same 

 time ahead, to look out, on the ground, to 

 avoid cracking twigs. The slopes, many of 



