220 THE HIGHLANDS OF CENTBAL INDIA. 



them to beat for us. A long slope of broken ground between 

 the foot of the scarp and the bottom of the glen was to be 

 beaten crossways; D. took the post just below the scarp, 

 E. remained near the bottom, and I had the middle place. 

 I screened myself behind the thick double trunk of a teak 

 tree, forking from the ground. The beat was a short one, 

 and I had not waited long before a tremendous crashing on 

 the hill side above me, followed by a shot from D., an- 

 nounced the approach of some heavy animal. I thought it 

 was a bull bison at least, and was surprised when a sambar 

 stag burst through the underwood just in front of me, and, 

 with horns laid along his flanks, clattered down the steep 

 hill side. He was going full speed, and was much screened 

 by the long grass and dry bamboos, which he scattered on 

 every side in his passage, so that I had not much confidence 

 in the broadside shot wherewith I greeted him proving suc- 

 cessful. Something told me I had hit him, however, a 

 sportsman who has shot much is seldom mistaken in his 

 inward heart as to the truth of his aim, and though he 

 crashed away apparently untouched I ran eagerly to the 

 place where he had passed to look for blood. Before I arrived 

 I heard the ring of a rifle in R's direction, and then a long 

 holloa which told me that the stag was down. Though 

 greatly disappointed at losing the magnificent head which I 

 saw he carried, I went on to the trail, and there I found great 

 gouts of the red and frothy blood that tells of a shot through 

 the lungs. Some of the Gonds now came up, and I left them 

 to run the trail down hill, while I hastened down to where 

 the stag had fallen. He lay on his side, close to E.'s post, 

 which he had been passing full speed when he fired and 

 toppled him over. The shot hole was, however, in his haunch 

 and that wound I knew would never stop a stag like this. So 



