THE TRAIL OP THE TIGER 309 



this time, and there, not more. than six or eight 

 feet away, and above us, was the tiger we thought 

 was on the other hill. He had crossed back and was 

 now watching us, body crouched, chin close to its 

 fore paws, eyes glaring menacingly. It was the 

 surprise of my hunting career, and withal a most 

 disturbing situation, for my rifle (50-calibre) hung 

 from my left shoulder. I felt that a spring was 

 imminent, and it seemed that almost with thought 

 of it, the spring came, but not before I had swung 

 my rifle into position, and fired, full into the beast's 

 face, dropping flat instantly with the same intui- 

 tiveness which closes the eyelid against flying dan- 

 ger. Uda Prang was not so quick in dropping 

 and, as the tiger went over our heads it reached 

 him, on the shoulders in passing, tearing the flesh 

 severely with its claws. It kept on down the steep 

 hill breaking cover, and plunging into the jungle, 

 across the fields, where for three days we tracked 

 it. At first we found blood but it did not last 

 long, indicating a superficial head wound, and after 

 a time the pug prints were entirely lost on firm soil. 



So the little girl was not avenged after all, but 

 I received a practical lesson in the untrustworthi- 

 ness of hollow-pointed bullets on dangerous game. 



Thus the tiger's trail, and the tiger. To none 

 are accredited such human tragedies; to none so 



