54 THE EASTEEN HTJNTEES. 



" Very good, do so/' replied Norman. " I will 

 keep watch here till you return ; and take you care 

 of the wind/' Saying this, he tossed a few blades 

 of grass into the air, and pointed to the quarter 

 whence they were blown. 



The shikaree nodded his head and moved stealthily 

 and silently away, making a slight detour, so as to 

 gain a position from which he might approach up 

 wind, the spot he wished to examine. Taking off 

 as he went, the dirty ragged little roll of cloth which 

 did duty for a pugree, and which might possibly, in 

 some far-off period, have claimed to be white, he 

 twisted twigs and leaves within its folds, and bend- 

 ing them so as to conceal both it and a portion of 

 his face, replaced it. 



Norman was not sorry to have a few minutes to 

 regain the wind and steadiness which the climb up 

 the hill had somewhat impaired. Sitting, rifle in 

 hand, with his attendant perfectly still in the shade 

 of a small tree, he awaited the man's return, or such 

 chance as Diana might previously send one of her 

 keenest votaries. 



A brace of green pigeons came and settled in a 

 neighbouring tree, and Norman watched them, 

 thinking they would be very palatable for dinner. 

 In the absence of other employment, he brought up 

 his rifle and endeavoured to cover one after the 



