ROUGHING IT IN SOUTHERN INDIA 153 



mother could not have been far off, but we neither saw nor 

 heard anything of her till quite late, when the two babies 

 had romped and tumbled themselves tired, and were lying 

 on their sides, paws in air, after the manner of kittens. 

 Then a deep sharp note or call from somewhere we did hear, 

 very different from the harsh roar we knew so well when 

 it echoed through the jungle. The cubs were keen to hear 

 it too ; they scrambled to their feet and scampered off, 

 tails on end. 



A panther's usual note so exactly resembles the sound of 

 wood being sawn in a sawpit (which gives a hollowness and 

 depth) that one may easily be mistaken for the other. 

 The same may be said of the cry of the Great Toucan or 

 helmet bird — so called from the bony black headpiece 

 jutting over its eyes ; but as this is uttered chiefly when 

 flying, and consequently dies away speedily, it can be recog- 

 nised for what it is without difficulty, though not at first 

 hearing. 



Speaking of these huge birds, I remember an occasion 

 when one had been shot and the wings given to me. They 

 are yellowish-white in colour, being pure yellow as to the 

 shoulders and a few of the feathers. These wings were 

 soiled and tumbled, so I had them washed. To my intense 

 surprise, when the first rinsing water was changed the 

 next became yellow immediately, and the longer the wings 

 remained in it the deeper yellow it became. Drawing a 

 quill, I found it full at the base of a dark orange colouring 

 matter, thick like a paste, which, mingling with the water, 

 tinted it and the feathers immersed in it of a pure, pale, 

 and varying yellow. We thought it an extraordinarily 

 artificial arrangement on the part of Dame Nature. 



The flight of these rather ugly birds is a very clumsy one ; 

 they may be seen flopping and tumbling as though they 

 were learning the art, but, nevertheless, they can go along 

 at a great rate. 



