By Tamarind and Mhowa. 95 



The Indian hot-weather season has a somewhat similar 

 effect on the country-side to that of autumn frosts in 

 England. There the excess of cold, here the excess of heat, 

 strips most trees of their foliage, and withers the grass, 

 leaving <* few evergreens here and there among wide 

 stretches of bare-twigged coppices ; and the heat-haze of 

 India produces an effect not unlike that seen in frosty 

 woods at home, when a blood-red sun is rising through 

 misty vistas of leafless trees an example of the truth of 

 the adage " extremes meet." 



Such is the general appearance of the jungle this 

 morning. 



Camp is pitched not far from a small village, in a plot of 

 garden land. The fresh, newly-grown foliage of large 

 tamarind trees shades our little 8o-lb. tents. Hard by there 

 is a fine old masonry well, with the inevitable mot, or water- 

 raising apparatus. Unless engaged in a beat for tiger, 

 the hot hours of the day and it is blistering hot now 

 between 9 a.m. and 4 p.m. are usually passed in camp. 



Tents especially the modest shelter of the wandering 

 shikari are of course unbearable at these hours ; but by 

 erecting a mandwa, or thickly thatched roof on tall 

 uprights, the camp table and bed may be set in the breeze, 

 hot though it be, and the time passed in scanty attire, not 

 unpleasantly, with a siesta thrown in to compensate for 

 early and late hours. There may be the old jungle diary 

 in which to jot down some interesting experience the 

 sketch book private correspondence a novel the photo- 

 graphic apparatus. Meanwhile the bullocks pace slowly 

 at their allotted task at the well, and the heavily rising 

 leather water-bag discharges its cool contents with a sooth- 

 ing gush into the reservoir, and from it along grass-fringed 

 channels to irrigate the little plots of summer vegetables. 



