TALE OF A TIGER. 



Tiger hunting is very dangerous sport, remarked Mr. John J. Byrne, 

 of the Sante Fe Road, in his usual quiet and unassuming manner. Some 

 ten years ago, while hunting in India, I had an experience which was more 

 thrilling than usual. I had left my rifle in camp and started for a spring 

 near at hand, when suddenly an immense tiger sprang at me, and I avoided 

 him only by my remarkable activity. I was not at all frightened, and on 

 the contrary, was very angry both at the audacity of the tiger, and at my 

 own neglect in failing to carry my rifle. 



As I could not fight his Royal Bengal Highness single-handed, there 

 was nothing to do but to run, and I flatter myself there was an exhibition 

 of speed which has not been equalled before or since by any professional 

 athlete. At his first leap, the tiger barely missed me, tearing a fragment 

 from my hunting coat. We were so evenly matched in speed that at every 

 step I made down the trail through the jungle the tiger dropped in my 

 footsteps, scratching my hunting boots at each bound. This race was 

 continued for ten miles without any advantage being gained on either side, 

 and I finally escaped by leaping a chasm too broad for the tiger to follow. 



My anger and excitement by this time were at the boiling point, and 

 the effect was to change the color of my hair from raven blackness to a 

 fiery red, which color it remained for three years. I still keep the hunting 

 boots, and can prove the truth of my story by the marks of the tiger's 

 claws. ^ / 



FANCY SHOOTING. 



My modesty alone has prevented me taking championship honors in 

 the way of fancy shooting, both with rifle and shot gun, said Mr. Geo. G. 

 Pouring, of New Haven. As proof of my skill with these weapons, I 

 will mention a few feats which I frequently perform with great ease. 

 One of my favorite recreations is duck shooting from a blind. In this 

 sport I use nothing but a repeating rifle, and always shoot the incomers 



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