A PILGRIMAGE 77 



should be of buffalo (the animal I particularly- 

 sought), of gnuadang (the wild red ox) and of 

 kating (the local name for the Indian gaur and 

 the Malayan seladang) . 



At least the chief appeared to have full confi- 

 dence in his assurances for he hunted diligently. 

 In the open country he went forth regularly with 

 sundown to jack rabbits, while in the jungle he 

 sat up many a night on a platform over a tied-up 

 bullock in the hope of getting a shot at tiger. To 

 see— and to hear— Ram and his servant escort de- 

 parting for and returning from these platforms 

 was perhaps the most impressive event of the pil- 

 grimage. He always set out for the platform 

 before dark and returned at daybreak. Long 

 after he passed out of sight as he went, and long 

 before we could see him on the return, we would 

 hear his strident voice reaching up out of the wil- 

 derness about us, and the smashing and slashing 

 of brush as his servants cleared his way— and inci- 

 dentally announced his approach to all the jungle 

 four-footed folk in the province. In the morning, 

 as the chief emerged from the jungle with trailing 

 servants, bearing his gun, hat, tea-making set, cig- 

 arettes, knives, slippers, wraps, lantern, he would 

 make direct for my tent, where he saluted and then 

 recounted to Nai Kawn in voice so loud as to be 

 distinguishable at the farthest corner of our camp 



