22 A TIGER HUNT IN INDIA 



mixture of garlic, sandalwood and charcoal, 

 and then that velvety, yellow coat of the king 

 of the jungle. ... 



And afterwards the ride home through the 

 silence of the evening. A delicious freshness 

 is in the clear air. The sun sinks in a sea of 

 violet and rosy clouds. And from innumerable 

 huts rises the peaceful smoke of many an 

 Indian supper. 



Such a ride; such pictures; such emotions 

 are not easily forgotten. They draw one back 

 with a kind of homesickness. 



The Englishman calls it " the Call of the 

 East." I, too, know it now — that Call. . . . 



