8 Incidents of Foreign Field Sport. 



and the tearing of flesh. A moment after, the tiger 

 rolled over, slid down a steep declivity and fell into 

 the bed of a nullah (ravine) which was covered 

 with a carpeting of long grass. In that we heard 

 it struggle for some little time, then followed a 

 few moans, a gasp or two succeeded, and all was still. 

 "Murffya" (He is dead), said the shikarie, and stood up. 

 I was not sorry to follow his example, for I was bent 

 and doubled, and so cramped that I could scarcely 

 straighten my limbs. We consulted together and 

 decided that, though the tiger was more than probably 

 dead, we had better not approach it until the morning, 

 so we made our way homewards. Whilst Mogul Beg 

 went to his domicile in the village, about a quarter 

 of a mile from mine, I tumbled into bed. I am a light 

 sleeper and am generally wide awake at daybreak, a 

 habit which has stuck to me through life. But that 

 night I was very tired ; I had ridden out eighteen 

 miles, had hunted the whole day, securing four first 

 spears, and had returned home barely an hour when 

 Mogul Beg had induced me to go up the hill. So, 

 thoroughly wearied, I did not awake that morning 

 till past six. By the time I had had my cJwta hazarie 

 and had bathed and dressed, Mogul Beg, accompanied 

 by eight coolies, presented himself. He was as 

 pleased as Punch, for he thought the reward then 

 given for a dead tiger, Rs.50, was as good as in his 

 pocket. It must have been past seven before we set 

 out, for there did not seem to be much need to be 

 in a hurry. We climbed the hill, arrived at the scene 

 of action, searched everywhere, but could find no 

 tiger ! Was it all a dream ? Scarcely ! for there 

 lay the dead heifer, the debris of our mart, 



