156 IN THE INDIAN JUNGLE. 



his traps, and I could not for the life of me tell the 

 difference between his call and that of the animals 

 he imitated. Was it jackal he wanted he would 

 partly shade his mouth with his left hand and a 

 series of yells would break forth, as if all the jack- 

 als had assembled to join chorus. He could make 

 the notes sound distant or near by merely opening 

 and closing his hand. If he were after a quail, 

 the " ronk " of the male bird was heard to per- 

 fection. From the thigh bones of a cat he shaped 

 a whistle from which the strangest sounds would 

 issue at will. Far off larks would come down in 

 flight, or crow-pheasants and pea-fowl would answer 

 the harsh scream. Sometimes he would be absent 

 for days, and then he would return with a low 

 flat basket filled with partridges and quail on his 

 head, a long rod slung across his shoulder and a 

 peacock perched on either side. To prevent the 

 pea-fowl taking to flight he would sew their eyelids 

 together with a small feather, so that they could 

 not see, and in that condition they remained 

 perfectly quiet on their perch and could be handled. 

 Purdasee was delighted when work took me to 

 the wooded districts. There he was in his element, 

 snaring game. On the plains he could only 

 exercise his ingenuity on the village roosters, and 

 when he found that I compelled him to take them 

 back to their owners, and that he was in disfavour 

 for the remainder of the day, he brought me no 

 more village fowl ; but I felt sure that the thieving 

 went on all the same, as he would find ready 

 receivers in my camp servants, who were not so 



