In the Sal Forests. 227 



to avoid a big fluted termites' heap, when suddenly there 

 is old Dabbi the Marian crouched close to the ground ; 

 and the others, 'well to the rear luckily, all behind sal 

 stems ! As for me a tree trunk is what I most desire to 

 simulate at the moment. Am I ' spotted'? Or do the khaki 

 breeches and brownish coat in any wise resemble the 

 corrugated stems of Shorea robusta \ Dabbi however begins 

 to crawl, crab-like, in my direction; so, very gently, down 

 I go too. Gondi is the only language in which Dabbi 

 and I have common knowledge, my share comprising a few 

 names of animals and a common word or two ; but hunters' 

 language of eye and hand is a regular " Volapuk," carrying 

 one all the world over, and there is no difficulty in learn- 

 ing that * he ' is lying in a slight hollow in that bit of a 

 clearing ahead of us. 



Delicious moment ! Does the hunter not know it well, 

 when the knowledge of having found his game, his presence 

 all unsuspected, mingles with the suppressing of the eager 

 desire to attack ! Yes. The great beast is there ; for the 

 tips of a truculent pair of wide-curving black horns betray 

 his position, and here are we planning how to get the 

 better of his natural wile. 



And a cunningly-chosen position the old bull has taken 

 up! What wind there is it guards the weak spots of his 

 defences. Clear ground to the other spots of the 

 compass gives him a commanding view down-wind, while 

 his post in the slight hollow affords that advantage of 

 forcing an approaching enemy to show himself over the 

 sky-line. If startled now, a few paces would take him 

 among the timber up-wind, and we should not get in that 

 well-placed shot which alone will prevent a pursuit 

 infinitely more arduous than the whole of this long 

 morning's work, or, perhap? indeed, his eventual escape. 



