1 30 Leaves from an Indian Jungle. 



fibrous strips of the bark of the dhamin tree, a sapling was 

 felled and run through his legs, and hey presto ! "Bhalu" 

 borne by half-a-dozen staggering Korkus, emerges from the 

 Machhar khbra for the positively last time " feet first ! " 



Elated by such a capital morning's sport, I turned west- 

 ward and beat along the banks of the little river, missing 

 a four-horned antelope that, with its mate, went darting and 

 dodging away through the-maze of salai stems. Farther on 

 we beat a thickly-wooded terrace running along the side of 

 the now deep sunk watercourse, and, being luckily posted, 

 a lot of peafowl thrashed heavily up in all directions 

 within easy range, and gave a pretty right and left to the 

 gun, the cock closing his wings with a snap, and collapsing 

 limply in mid-air, like a gigantic pheasant. 



This wound up the morning's doings, and I was shortly 

 rid of my shooting boots, and running homewards on the 

 bike down the long gentle slope that trends away from the 

 base of the hills. Another hour or so found me engaged 

 at the billiard table in our little Mess, having killed the 

 bear over again at tiffin. 



Another day, it was after a long blank morning of hard 

 tramping, when we were returning home, that a man came 

 running after us to say a bear had been marked down. 

 Foot-soreness suddenly vanished, and we quickly reeled off 

 another kcs to the place where a small dot in the upper 

 branches of a teak tree showed us the watcher patiently 

 marking old " Bh&lu " down. 



" Somewhere in that little scar half way up the opposite 

 hillside" was all the information he could give us. The 

 bear had been seen by these fellows, who had been cutting 

 grass on the hillside, as he went meandering and snuffing 

 his way home from a night's visit to the ber trees at the 

 foot of the hill country. 



