228 Leaves front an Indian Jungle. 



Here, then, is the advantage of a strong binocular glass 

 wherewith to scrutinize our ground and endeavour to elimin- 

 ate the element of chance. Old speiroceros lies almost facing 

 us, but his eyes are below the level of our present horizon. 

 No. To creep stealthily in, this time, would not serve our 

 purpose. Time is passing however, and something must 

 be done. What if the bull should make off, warned by that 

 subtle sense the operation of which we must have noted at 

 times, and which is apparently set in motion by the con- 

 centration of mind bent on the hunted by the hunter ! What 

 else but this indefinable transference of brain energy can it 

 have been that on certain occasions has caused the originally 

 unconscious then uneasy game to rise to its feet with 

 vague forebodings, and display a mysterious disquiet un- 

 accountable to the external senses of sight, hearing, or smell ! 



Well, here goes ! " Dabbi, my little friend, do thou stop 

 here ! I, the slayer, will make a detour across the wind, and 

 come in there, nearly behind of the Barreh, and among 

 the sdl trees into which he will make his way when roused. 

 And then, good Dabbi, creep nearer, and show but that 

 tiny black cranium of thine to him who, pondering, masti- 

 cates in the hollow yonder ! " 



The little Marian's crowlike eyes blink. He nods re- 

 flectively. 



# * * # # 



It is with feelings of gratitude that the hunter at length 

 creeps behind the afar-noted trees. The wide horn-tips 

 are still down there, but are seen this time from behind. 

 Fearfully is the breech of the cordite rifle gently set agape. 

 Yes. Two shining cartridges are still there ! A perspiring 

 palm is wiped dry on the clothing. The little Marian 

 should be at work now. A hot, oppressive silence broods 

 in the glade, and the somewhat quick breathing of the 

 sportsman must be checked. 



