THE TERROR OF HUNSUR. 61 



water he soon saw that tracking would be useless 

 in such country, and that he must shift to where 

 there were no large streams. A couple of weeks 

 had been spent in the arduous work of following 

 up the brute from Karkankote to Frazerpett and 

 back again to the river near Hunsur and then on 

 to Heggadavencotta. Even the tireless Yalloo now 

 became wearied and began to doubt the good 

 fortune of his master. Yet Gordon Cumming was 

 as keen as ever, and would not give up his plan of 

 following like a sleuth-hound on the tracks of the 

 brute. On several occasions they had fallen in with 

 other parties out on the same errand as themselves, 

 but these contented themselves with lying in wait 

 at certain points the brute was known to frequent. 

 These parties had invariably asked Gordon Cum- 

 ming to join them, as they pronounced his stern 

 chase a wildgoose one and said he was as likely 

 to come up with the Flying Dutchman as he was 

 with the Terror of Hunsur. 



It was getting well into the third week of this 

 long chase, when the tracks led through some 

 scrub jungle which would not give cover to anything 

 larger than a spotted deer. They had come on to 

 the ruins of an ancient village, the only signs of 

 which were a small temple fast falling into decay, 

 and an enormous banyan tree (Ficus religiosa). It 

 was midday ; the heat was intense, and they sat 

 under the shade of the tree for a little rest. Cum- 

 ming was munching a biscuit, while Yalloo was 

 chewing a little pan (betel-leaf), when a savage 

 scream was heard and there, not twenty paces off, 



