THE GREAT CHIR PINE FOREST 191 



having disappeared, and the poor dogs had been unable 

 to sleep for watching. The khansamah, when cooking by 

 his fire, had seen a big leopard lying on a rock just above 

 him, outlined against the sunset sky. This was a fair- 

 sized leopard, or panther it might be called, and its skin 

 was a beautiful one. 



Shortly after that, the villagers reported having lost 

 goats and calves in a valley not far off, where was much 

 scrub jungle, rocks, and a river of clear green water 

 flowing by, with deep pools and khair-trees on the flat. 

 They brought word about two o'clock one day that a 

 buffalo calf had just been killed, and its blood sucked from 

 the neck by a tiger or a panther. Going at once, I climbed 

 into the fork of a khair-tree, the only one available, just 

 three yards above the calf, and sat there from three till 

 six, rifle to shoulder pointed at the calf. It was the cold 

 season, and not too hot. Dressed in khaki-coloured 

 jacket and preserving an immovable attitude, I hoped to 

 remain unobserved, as leopards do not often look up into 

 trees. The wind, gently passing up the valley, as it 

 always does in the afternoon, would carry the scent clean 

 away. It was tiresome work sitting still, but I had 

 secured a firm position by placing a few cross boughs in 

 the fork. The sun sank behind the hill, the breeze fell 

 to a calm, and silence reigned. The birds, having finished 

 their screeching and flying round, were thinking of going 

 to roost ; some jungle fowl were running through the 

 tufts of long grass on the sand by the black stems of the 

 feathery acacia-trees. There sounded through the still- 

 ness a hollow ' Ooh, ooh ' from the hillside across the river, 

 whence came the continuous musical murmurings of the 

 stream flowing among rocks. A second similar call, 

 somewhat louder, but in the opposite direction. The 

 sound was like a ventriloquist's voice, and seemed to come 



