TIGER-SHOOTING. 205 



the ground, laid down his discharged rifle, and 

 pulled out his shikar knife wherewith to cut his 

 throat. Seizing the buck by the horns with his 

 left hand, he bent back its throat, and, plunging 

 the knife in, was just about to give it a turn, 

 when with a mighty effort the buck sprang up, 

 and, sending my astonished friend flying on to the 

 broad of his back, made off, and was soon lost to 

 view. He was never seen again, though tracked 

 for a couple of miles by the blood. My friend 

 supposed his bullet must have struck one of the 

 buck's horns, and so stunned him for a moment. 



When I was stationed at Roorkee, and had 

 no time to make expeditions after larger game, 

 I often used to go out for a ride in the evening 

 with a few dogs, and have a course after jackals, 

 foxes, or hares. My pack consisted of an Eng- 

 lish greyhound, three cross-bred terriers but 

 regular varmints and often a well-bred bull-bitch 

 belonging to a brother-officer. These generally 

 managed to account for any animal they hunted 

 of the three species above named. The greyhound 

 generally ran down or turned the quarry into the 

 mouths of the rest of the pack. 



One day, when out with a brother-ensign near 

 the hospital at Roorkee, we started a jackal, which 

 was soon run into, and apparently killed. After 

 the dogs had had a good worry at him, and I had 



