By Tamarind and Mhowa. 99 



plumage, as he stands on a little sand bank, with the early 

 sunlight playing on him in a miracle of blended colour ! 



And what is that movement far down the dim 

 distance ? a chital. A stag too ! slowly crossing from 

 bank to bank. More of them! Cannot we steal nearer? to 

 observe, not to slay, for the jungle must remain undis- 

 turbed till we encompass that tiger's undoing. Wait till 

 the whole herd there must be at least forty or fifty deer- 

 cross and ascend the other bank ; then steal down this 

 silent, sandy floor, and creep up its sloping sides. 



As we raise our heads over the tall red grasses, there 

 rises before us the drooping foliage of the big tamarinds 

 of deserted Pipalda. There is the old mhowa tree, its 

 lately fruit-stripped branches flecked with the transparent 

 gold of budding leaves, and, nearer us, knee deep in the 

 coarse grasses of the little clearing, moves the herd of 

 spotted deer in its capricious ways. 



The chital have now reached their home, having no doubt 

 lately made their way into the bandt from a nocturnal 

 visit to the open fields outside. These old village sites 

 are always attractive to the ungulata, and are a sure 

 find for chital throughout the day, until the cool of 

 evening tempts them from the shade to wander slowly 

 through the forest towards their nightly feeding grounds. 

 Then it is that the silence of the dark hours is broken by 

 the braying of the stags or sharp whistling of the hinds. 



Here, then, is the herd at home, as yet unconscious of 

 our presence ; and far may one travel to match so fair a 

 sight. It would be superfluous to recall the oft-penned 

 claim of that perfect stag to first place among all the 

 graceful family Cervtdaz. He possesses it without a 

 doubt, beyond all cavil, as he stands there, unconsciously 

 posing as a faultless picture of colouring and grace of 



