56 DIARY OF A SPORTSMAN NATURALIST 



As the moon paled before the brightening rays of the 

 rapidly rising sun the surrounding forest became pervaded 

 with a lovely rosy light which gave to the crowns of the 

 great creeper-covered trees a wonderfully soft effect. In 

 front a trappy, rocky hill-side covered with stunted, scat- 

 tered trees and sparse tufts of sabai grass lay already 

 bathed in a hard golden sunlight, which meant fierce heat 

 later on. It was this hill we were making for, and to my 

 annoyance we had not reached it as soon as I had hoped 

 to do. I was now faced with the problem as to whether to 

 climb the hill and get the work done whilst it was still 

 comparatively cool, or make certain of replenishing the 

 larder and face the greater heat on the hill-side, once the 

 commissariat question was settled. The latter alternative 

 appeared the most prudent, and quitting the track, we 

 entered a narrow deer run to the left, and proceeded slowly, 

 keeping a look out for fresh tracks or animals. 



We had not gone far when we 

 saw, away to the right, a small 

 dull reddish shape cropping the 

 grass at the foot of a fine old sal. 

 It was about forty paces away 

 and quite unconscious of our 

 presence. The khakar or munt- 

 jac, the so-called barking deer, 

 for such the little animal was, 



raised its head, listened intently for a second or two and 

 then stamped its forefoot into the turf, emitted a 

 succession of sharp barks, listened again and returned 

 to its feeding. I raised the rifle and then lowered it and 

 signified to my companion to move forward. I had not the 

 heart to fire at the little beast and I had remembered that 

 the camp followers would like to have some meat, and that 

 it would be as well to kill something larger than a khakar. 



Within ten minutes we were standing before the abso- 

 lutely fresh tracks of a herd of bison ! The animals could 

 not have passed, by all the evidences, more than an hour 

 before, and were evidently browsing as they went along. 



The jungle man's eyes gleamed as he thought of the 

 feast that he would have if the sahib bagged one of them. 

 A corresponding gleam was in my eyes. What would 

 Bishu, the head shikari, say /if the sahib bagged a good 

 bison without his being there to show it him. The sahib 



