IN THE BERARS MY FIRST TIGER 69 



th, you know, are a sporting lot, and we have some 



keen shikaris amongst us." 



My companion, L., told me a great deal about the successes 

 they had had in times past, but assured me it was " no go " 

 now, unless a black buck head would suit me, and that would 

 in all probability be but a small one ! 



On arriving at our destination I wished L. good-bye, 

 promising to look him up on my way back, and next 

 evening found me ensconced in a bungalow in the heart of 

 the forest. There I met the Forest Officer, and almost his 

 first words finally settled my hopes of sport. In reply to a 

 question he repeated almost the identical words made use 

 of by L. 



" Shooting ? None ! Shot over too much, and the 

 drought carried off what was left ! " This was a clencher. 



The next morning broke a good average gloomy monsoon 

 day ; but the showers were light, and we started out early 

 on a tour of inspection, returning to breakfast at about 

 eleven o'clock. I had spent the last four days in hard 

 travelling in tonga, train and saddle, and confess I was 

 looking forward to a lounge and a book after the meal was 

 over. 



During the latter part of our walk the clouds had come low 

 down, and half a gale of wind was blowing them in blind- 

 ing showers across the hills as we arrived at the bungalow. 

 This increased during breakfast, and when an orderly came 

 to the door and reported that a man had come in with the 

 information that a tiger had killed his buffalo early that 

 morning at a spot about six miles away, the news was not 

 received with very great enthusiasm. I suggested that he 

 be told to wait till breakfast had put more heart into us, 

 and that meanwhile men might be sent off to build a 

 machan over the kill. 



The weather was worse after breakfast, but when the 

 villager had told his tale, and added that a machan had 

 already been prepared, I felt that the opportunity was 

 too good a one to miss. One had been on a wild-goose chase 

 of this description before, but there was always the chance 

 of the luck turning. From the outset my companion had 

 made no pretence of either wanting or intending to go. 

 As he remarked, the weather was vile, not fit for a dog to 

 be out in, even whilst on the move ; much less so for a man 

 sitting in a machan in a wet jungle. 



