258 IN THE INDIAN JUNGLE. 



duck gun, the bestars pushing this fragile yet buoy- 

 ant concern into deep water. The party on the 

 shore directed our movements, and soon I was 

 ensconced behind some tall rushes near to where 

 several flocks of wild *duck were feeding. My 

 bestars now left me to drive the duck in my direc- 

 tion, as I hoped to take them on the wing. Soon 

 I heard a quack ! as the birds took the wing, and 

 presently a large flock were sailing overhead. 

 Rising on my fragile support to get a better shot, I 

 let drive right and left among them, and then found 

 myself head over heels in the water and nearly 

 drowned. With great difficulty I managed to get 

 back to my seat on the raft, leaving my gun in the 

 water for the bestars to recover. In my anxiety to 

 get a good shot at the duck I had stepped too near 

 the edge of the raft, and that, with the heavy recoil 

 of the duck gun, sent one side of the raft down and 

 me into the water. My friend was too much of a 

 gentleman to laugh at my woe-begone figure, wet 

 and covered with mud, but he remarked : " You 

 Sahibs are hard to understand ; you will risk your 

 necks to drive a spear into a pig ; you will slave 

 all day for birds that can be bought for two pice." 



