1 28 THE HUNTING GROUNDS 



scream of peafowl, or the shrill crowing of a jungle- 

 cock, who, unsuspicious of our presence, was scratch- 

 ing up the ground and clacking to his hens in an 

 adjoining thicket. The shrill and peculiarly wild 

 notes of these birds seem as if they were ordained by 

 nature to accord with the calm, still solitude, and 

 sublime grandeur of scenery of " the deep jungle." 

 They inhabit that deep jungle of which Ferishta 

 says truly, "That death dwells in the water, and 

 poison in the breeze ; where the grass is tough as 

 the teeth of serpents, and the air fetid as the 

 breath of dragons." For so it is : the deadliest fevers 

 lurk in these places most beautiful to the eye, the 

 air being poisoned and impregnated by the exhala- 

 tions of decayed leaves and other decomposed vege- 

 table matter. 



I must have slept several hours, for when I awoke 

 I found the sun sinking low in the horizon ; how- 

 ever, I got up considerably refreshed for my nap, 

 and, giving myself a shake, prepared for the task I 

 had undertaken. 



I carefully examined my arms, and having ascer- 

 tained that nothing had been seen by any of my 

 gang, some of whom had kept a look-out, I told my 

 people to listen for the sound of my gun, which, if 

 they heard, they might come up, otherwise that they 

 were to remain quiet, until my return. 



I ordered Chineah, Kistimah, Googooloo, and the 

 dhoby to accompany me down the road with spare 

 guns, in case I might want them, and when I ar- 



