234 Wild Beasts 



and scenery, to that vague body of feeling and of imagina- 

 tive impressions, which most persons carry with them 

 concerning this suggestive animal. "Tigers," remarks 

 Sherwell, "are prone to haunt those crumbling works 

 belonging to states and dynasties that have been swept 

 away by war." In the deserted fortress of Mahoor, says 

 Major Bevan, they were " so abundant that a few match- 

 lock-men, who had been kept there to guard the temple, 

 were afraid to go occasionally to the arsenal to bring their 

 ammunition." The jungles and forests where game-killing 

 tigers prowl for their prey are among those scenes in 

 nature which no man who has appreciated their full signifi- 

 cance ever forgets. " They who have never explored 

 a primeval forest," writes Leveson, " can have but a very 

 faint impression of the mysterious effect that absence 

 of light and intense depth of gloom . . . the unbroken 

 stillness and utter silence . . . exert upon the mind." 

 They " create a strange feeling of awe and loneliness that 

 depresses the spirits and appalls the hearts of those unac- 

 customed to wander in these solitudes. . . . Solitude is 

 too insufficient a term to convey an idea of the overpower- 

 ing sensation of desolation and abandonment that pervades 

 these regions." 



Stranger, perhaps stronger than all else, is the bewilder- 

 ing feeling of contrast between the impressive actualities 

 of one's surroundings, and the spectral appearance of what- 

 ever the eye takes in. Peril may be imminent at every 

 step, and yet all things seem unreal in that weird atmos- 

 phere in which they are seen. Animals look like the 

 shadows of themselves. An elephant's motionless, gigan- 



