T34 GUN, RIFLE, AND HOUND. 



The beaters soon appeared opposite me, and in a 

 very few minutes it was evident that the bull had 

 made tracks. I was just going to move away when 

 frantic shouts of " Bagh / bagh ! " (Tiger ! tiger !) and 

 wild howls arose from the beaters. I could see 

 nothing, and supposing it was only a hyaena, or 

 perhaps even a jackal, I stepped out from my place 

 of concealment. 



Lying between my bush (so to speak) and the 

 adjoining one was an enormous panther ! I certainly 

 never was so taken aback. We were about eight 

 feet apart, and, as there were no side issues through 

 the thorns, one of us must give way or die. For- 

 tunately there was no question of a hollow bullet this 

 time. My trusty 12-bore Reilly was in my hands. 

 I think we faced each other for half a minute. If 

 ever I saw wrath personified it was then. With ears 

 flat back against its head, and contracted lips showing 

 the white teeth, it glared at me with its fierce eyes, 

 keeping up a snarling growl, and lashing the ground 

 with its tail. 



Slowly, slowly, I raised the heavy rifle, and aimed 

 at the broad chest just where the chin allowed me 

 to see it. I recollect now that I remembered to allow 

 for the rise of the ball at so short a distance, and, 

 taking a very fine sight, I pulled the trigger. As 

 I did so I jumped back a step and drew my knife 

 with my right hand. 



It was unnecessary, for as the smoke cleared I 

 saw the fierce head dropping on the paws, and the 

 great cat lay still. The shock of the heavy bullet 



