A Hyrcan Tiger 247 



It was after I had moved my camp to the 

 south side of the Gurgan river, and again the 

 time was evening. We had gained the summit 

 of a ridge. Below and in front was a deep 

 coomb thickly wooded ; to our left an undulat- 

 ing plateau deep in yellow grass, the highest 

 shoulder of which, overlooking the Dasht plain 

 far below, was sprinkled with white stones. It 

 was a graveyard the only lasting relic of some 

 ancient Parthian city, the buildings of which 

 are long since mingled with the dust, while 

 the place of the human inhabitants has been 

 taken by another and not more savage fauna. 

 A grass-covered arm from this plateau straggled 

 into the forest on the opposite side of the valley 

 half a mile or so distant. On this the beams 

 of the sun still lingered, and there Ibrahim and 

 I simultaneously spotted a tiger. He was sitting 

 up like a huge cat I will not swear he was not 

 washing his face ! Then he rolled over on his 

 side in the long grass, enjoying the warmth of 

 the sun precisely the action of a cat on a 

 hearthrug. 



Having pointed out the spot to the shikari, I 

 told him to take me the shortest road possible 

 through the forest to a little bare knoll forty 

 yards or so above the tiger. There is a story 

 of an Eastern king who sent for a certain man 



