150 IN THE INDIAN JUNGLE. 



tearing it to shreds, while the Purdhan flew to- 

 wards me. Aiming low, as she was at close range 

 and the shots might rise in their trajectory, I fired 

 both barrels in rapid succession. Over she went a 

 regular somersault and kept turning over and over 

 every time she attempted to rise. Presently she 

 got on to three legs and began staggering along 

 after her cubs, which had again bolted on the 

 noise of the firing. It was evident that the bone 

 of one of her forelegs was broken, as the paw hung 

 limp by her side. Now and again she would stop 

 and look back at us, as if not quite decided 

 whether she would return to the attack or not. The 

 Purdhan was for bolting, but I threatened to knock 

 him down if he attempted to move, as I knew 

 that to run away would be a direct invitation to 

 the bear to attack, and with only No. 6 shot in my 

 gun a bear, even though badly wounded, would 

 make short work of us. We could hear her savage 

 growls as she went shambling up the hillside to 

 her cave in the rocks above. Next morning, 

 with a better provided magazine, we followed up her 

 trail, and found she had taken refuge in a cave on 

 the hill-top. We could distinctly hear the gurgling 

 sound that bears make when sucking their paws 

 a sound closely resembling that of a hubble-bubble 

 (native hookah) when smoked but all our endea- 

 vours to get them to break cover were fruitless. 

 Stones, firebrands, repeated shots all were in- 

 effectual, and I had to return empty-handed, re- 

 solving mentally never again to go bear-shooting 

 when after green pigeon. 



