

Reminiscences of Jungly pur. 131 



I was afraid that we should be detected if I attempted to 

 surround the little ravine into which he had been marked, 

 and, once disturbed, the thick jungle was all in favour of 

 the beast getting clear away ; so, placing men in trees to 

 watch the face of the hill and signal any premature move 

 on " Bhalrfs " part, I moved off -alone and stalked the ndla 

 long and carefully up-wind. On arriving there I found 

 that by going very cautiously along the bank and peeping 

 over at intervals, it was possible to examine the ravine 

 fairly well ; but it appeared to be deserted. Just then a 

 little puff of wind struck my back and, passing on, 

 appeared to rustle the fallen leaves among the boulders in 

 the dry bed of the watercourse. The slight rustling 

 continued. Then, very slowly, one of those big black 

 boulders in the shade of the bank stirred in its bed of 

 dry leaves, and became a bear that moved a step forward 

 and wagged its dirty-white snout from side to side with a 

 puzzled expression. 



Crack ! went the -303 from behind the trunk of a shelter- 

 ing tree, and a tuft of black hair sprang from his back. 

 Crack ! again, as he sprawled about the ndla and passed 

 behind a bush. Next moment a black hair trunk, with a 

 whitish sort of label on the front of it, appeared violently 

 struggling up the bank towards me, still in silence. 

 A third time the little rifle spat ; and now the hair trunk 

 rolled back amid an awful outcry " Whoo ! whoo! whoo." 

 But the well-known sound is well-nigh indescribable. An 

 attempt at it might be, say, a blend of passionately gur- 

 gled yodel and the soulful notes of a dog with an ear 

 for music. A few more ululations of the kind that are, 

 unfortunately, too funny to reach one's heart, and " Bhalu " 

 lay still in the ndla below. Once more had he become a 

 black boulder in its bed of leaves ! 



