Jungle By-Ways in India 



bullet caught him in the shoulder, and he fell 

 kicking on the sand. 



He was in his death-throe as I got up and 

 stood beside him. What a beautiful dainty little 

 animal, and how wonderfully soft and liquid 

 the large lustrous eyes, now, alas, with a last 

 reproachful hauntingly appealing look, glazing 

 into death ! 



What does it feel like to be a murderer ? Are 

 the feelings worse than those experienced on such 

 occasions ? 



