RETURN TO TIP US. 32 r 



The nights sped by blithely enough. The New- 

 Year's festivities, if not of any very formidable 

 pretensions at Eryvool, were at least lovingly pro- 

 tracted, and every night our great-limbed German 

 friend might be seen mixing his loved lint wine 

 for our delectation and his own. 



But one night the lint wine was not brewed, not 

 more than ten 'papiroses' were smoked, the talk was 

 no longer of Australian gold-diggings or American 

 prairies for had not the natives brought tidings 

 of the game we had come so far to seek ? At 

 some distance from our dwelling two nights before 

 a reiving tiger had struck down a Persian's cow 

 at a little settlement on the edge of the forest ; 

 there was the cow lying still, plain for all eyes to 

 see, and the tiger's track clearly marked on the 

 sand- bank of the little rivulet hard by. The next 

 night saw an eager trio of sportsmen on the spot. 

 Hound the copse where the tiger had been, and to 

 which we hoped he might return, Mr. Miiller, Ivan 

 and myself posted ourselves, each perched in a 

 tree, and pledged solemnly to one another to 

 wait there in silence through the livelong night. 

 Their perches I did not see, but my own I have 

 cause to remember. A tall tree-stump, perhaps 

 twenty feet high, had been roughly hewn or broken 

 at the top, the ragged edges of which were terribly 

 apt to break, and pierce the too confiding lx>ing 

 who placed his weitrht upon them. Round this 



V 



