SPORT IN AN INDIAN FOREST RESERVE. 123 



near. On a lower hill was perched the graceful form 

 of an old castle, with the native village nestling at 

 its foot. Behind, the hills ran back, forming a ruddy 

 background in the setting sun. Between me and the 

 village lay a large tank with a bund of antique 

 masonry, which was crowned with a line of lofty trees. 

 The bund itself formed a large garden, evidently 

 badly kept, and at one end stood a bungalow of some 

 kind. 



The setting sun warned me that I must be going, 

 so as to get on to the high-road before dark. I rode 

 off, promising myself another visit to the valley before 

 long. 



Next day I made some inquiries as to the place 

 I had seen. I learnt firstly what was indeed obvious, 

 that the place had been in old days a strong fortress, 

 and the seat of a petty Rajpoot chief. The family 

 had, however, fallen on evil times since the days of 

 British rule had commenced. The ruin which the 

 inability to levy tribute (and no doubt to plunder) had 

 commenced, the bimnias * had completed. The old 

 family were gone. Who inhabited the castle I know 

 not, for I never went there, knowing by experience 

 that it is better to see these native places from a 

 distance. I was further told that the old bungalow 

 I had seen had been erected years ago as a sort of 

 club by the officers of the garrison. They had taken 

 it in turns to go there for a change, and the then 



* Bunnias the hereditary grain-dealing caste, who combine with 

 their ancestral occupation the more profitable one of usury. 



