In the Sal Forests. 223 



forest, and timid as the wild beasts themselves were 

 extraordinarily secretive, and our own men were as much at 

 a loss as ourselves. At this juncture we were delivered from 

 our perplexity by Amir Ali, a Mahomedan shopkeeper, who 

 lived in a considerable village, the capital, as it were, of the 

 surrounding wild country. This individual was brought 

 to our camp by our men one evening, and in the course of 

 a very short conversation we managed to pick up valuable 

 hints as to the habits and present whereabouts of our 

 ponderous quarry. 



During an all-too-short sojourn of two months in those 

 delightful wilds, we found that, with the exception of a 

 wandering tiger at rare intervals and a few small bison, with, 

 say, a bear here and there, and a very few sambar and chital, 

 the country was denuded of all game, save a few scattered 

 herds of wild buffaloes. The mournful prognostications 

 indulged in many years previously by our predecessor of 

 the diaries had turned out only too true. Those keen 

 hunters, the little jungle-men, aided by gun-running friends 

 from over the border, had done their work; and the 

 * Mardian ' country was swept of its game, save the hardy 

 and dangerous Bubalus, attacks on whom were not lightly 

 undertaken by their tiny foes. 



To roam that magnificent natural game preserve was a 

 melancholy occupation. Monkeys and peacocks were almost 

 the only inhabitants of those grand sal jungles. Scarce a 

 barking deer or four-horned antelope leapt the rotting 

 fallen timber. No cry of wandering spotted stag or whistle 

 of herding hind disturbed the deep brooding silence. The 

 quiet of night was unbroken by the harsh cry of questing 

 beast of prey because there was no prey ! Was all the 

 jungle dead, then ? Was it that the presence of a few 

 wandering buffaloes had thus crushed all other wild life ? 



