104 DAYS AND NIGHTS OF SHIKAR 



Bunker was a real retriever, but Bumps, the 

 spaniel, was not so good. One day we all saw a bird 

 fall, and several men had a long hunt for it at the 

 spot, but it could not be found. Bumps was busy 

 working away at a small hole in a boundary hillock 

 twenty yards or more distant. I suggested we 

 should look there, but the coolies were certain that 

 would be useless. However, I made them come 

 and open out the hole with their sticks. After 

 digging down, with Bumps (who would not stop 

 scratching) very much in their way, they came on 

 the quail. Their look of astonishment was amusing. 

 Shabash, bravo ! They had never seen such a 

 wonderful dog in their lives ! 



When the dog-cart came to pick us up, there was 

 a glorious scramble of dogs waiting to be lifted up 

 to avoid the nasty hot run home in the sun. 



Poor Bunker ! I lost him one evening riding 

 over open country with some low scrub, and, as 

 often happened, we found a jackal and had a bit 

 of a run, though jackal or fox would invariably get 

 away. We lost our jack and I turned to come home, 

 the dogs following. I soon noticed that Bunker 

 was missing, so I turned again to look for him, 

 whistling and calling. It was no use; there was 

 no sign of him. It was growing quite dark and I 

 gave it up, but expected him to turn up every 

 minute. We went out over the same ground in the 

 morning but could find no trace of him; and of 

 course we told the police and made all inquiries 

 and did everything in our power to find him. 



He was missing for nearly a week. Then one of 



