28 THE HUNTING GROUNDS 



and as I look around my boyhood's home, in my 

 native land, (which to me long absence has given a 

 novel freshness,) and see the trophies of many a 

 hard-fought field, and the spoils of my rifle and the 

 spear hanging against the wall, I often think with 

 affectionate regret of my old companions, and dream 

 of the land 



" Where the maidens are soft as the roses they twine, 

 And all, save the spirit of man, is divine." 



In the morning, at the time appointed, a bugle 

 again rang through the place, and we were soon 

 round the breakfast-table, equipped in leathers and 

 boots. Some of the old hands had also samhur 

 (elk) skin jackets, and all wore hunting-caps. We 

 were soon in the saddle, and after a couple of hours' 

 canter by the light of the moon, arrived at our tents, 

 which were pitched under a stately banian, under 

 whose widely spreading arms some sixty Arabs were 

 picketed, each being groomed by his respective syce 

 (horsekeeper.) 



Coffee, brandy and soda water, and cheroots, &c., 

 were handed round, and half-an-hour was allowed 

 for the saddling, when a messenger came from the 

 head man of the village (who was with the beaters) 

 to say that the hogs were undisturbed, and that all 

 was in readiness. 



The tree under which our encampment was pitched 

 must have been of great age, for underneath were 

 the ruins of a small Hindoo temple, which bore traces 

 of great antiquity. Some of the shoots of the trunk 



