74 DIARY OF A SPORTSMAN NATURALIST 



streaks across it. 'Twas all I could see, but I knew it was 

 my first tiger lying on its back ! I got down, called up the 

 man who had again gone part of the way down the tree, 

 and sent him up to see what I had seen, which he quickly 

 corroborated. The question now to be faced was, what 

 was to be done ? It was no good firing at what I could not 

 see, and I had no intention of spoiling the skin by trying 

 aimless shots at what I was convinced was a dead tiger. I 

 had fired at the head and I felt that the bullet, by some 

 marvellous luck, had gone truly home. After some con- 

 sideration we called out to the men who were some way off 

 in the open above, and, as soon as they were near enough, 

 explained the position to them. They 

 sent down a few bushel-loads of stones, 

 sticks, and mud, etc., to wake up the brute 

 should he be only stunned or wounded, 

 and I then got down and, accompanied 

 by the Rajput Forest Ranger, armed with 

 a prehistoric implement he called a rifle, 

 we marched up to the tiger and found 

 I him lying on his back, his legs in the air, 

 with a bullet-hole just beneath his right 

 ear. Death had been instantaneous ! We 

 stood round, and the requiem of the dead 

 monarch was shouted by a babel of voices, 

 all explaining how much they had helped 

 in the deed of death, the number of buffaloes and cows the 

 marauder had eaten, with other details of his life history, 

 the refrain, which came in at intervals when want of breath 

 stopped the chief performers, consisting of a chorus of 

 grunts and wah ! wah ! wan ! wahs ! ! 



It was now nearly dark, and leaving instructions that 

 the beast was to be brought straight in, I turned away, 

 and for the first time for nearly an hour became aware of 

 the fact that I was wet, cold, hungry, stiff and tired. The 

 rain was coming down as if it meant to continue, and I had 

 six weary miles to get over. 



We got up out of that jungle and started best pace for 

 home. Before a mile had been covered it was pitch dark, 

 and the dense mist came down on the hills like a thick 

 white pall, fit shroud for the dead lord of the jungle. Two 

 miles or more were got over in safety, and I was beginning 

 to think that in a short time we should drop down on to 



