208 MY LAST TIGER. 



the timer's track, and then heard another bark of the deer not 

 very far from me. There was a high bank on the side where 

 I heard the sound, with a fallen tree on the top ; creeping 

 stealthily along and ascending the bank I peeped over the 

 fallen trunk and my eye instantly fell on the tiger lying 

 in a clump of bamboos, he was broadside on and looking 

 ahead in direction of the deer, lying exactly in the position 

 of one of Landseer's Lions in Trafalgar Square. When tiger 

 shooting on foot I always like to aim at the brain, for then if 

 you do not kill, you know there is no good in following up, 

 whereas if wounded in the body there is always a hope that 

 the animal may be mortally wounded, and more lives are lost 

 following a wounded tiger than in any other way. Unluckily 

 in this case the stems of the bamboos were exactly between 

 me and the back of the tiger's ear, and his shoulder was 

 partly hidden by a tuft of bamboo, so that I could only just 

 see the point of the shoulder ; as I was aiming the tiger 

 turned his head and looked straight at me, but it was too 

 late, the next instant he received the bullet. After firing I 

 instantly dropped down under the bank, moved a pace or two 

 on one side and was ready for him if he had come ; but on 

 again peering over the bank I had the satisfaction of seeing 

 him lying on his side apparently dead. I say apparently, for 

 these brutes have an awkward way of coming to life again, 

 and in this case he began to struggle, so I slipped a shell into 

 the unloaded barrel and sent a ball into the back of his head 

 and this finished him. But one cannot be too careful, so I 

 waited till I saw the flies begin to settle on his nose and eyes ; 

 even then I was cautious, and stealing up behind him I gave 

 a good tug at his tail, and as he did not move I went up and 

 took one of his paws in my hand ; it was so flexible it almost 



