Sporting Trips of a Subaltern 



poked my head and looked everywhere not a 

 living thing to be seen. I looked back at Hira 

 Singh, who had remained where I had left him, 

 looking surprised. I beckoned to him to crawl 

 up to me, which he did, but seemed unable to give 

 me any further assistance, and as neither of us 

 knew enough of the other's language to talk much, 

 there the matter ended ; and finding I was on a 

 small path, more a game track than anything 

 else, that led towards camp, we very presently 

 returned. On telling Woodyatt of Hira's extra- 

 ordinary behaviour in apparently spotting a beast 

 and then not knowing in the least what had 

 become of him, I found that my own proceedings 

 must have impressed him at least equally. With 

 my mind running on my lost beasts and my 

 very imperfect knowledge of Hindustani, I had 

 mistaken " surak " for " serow " (pronounced 

 in these parts "surow"), and on his pointing 

 out a track to me, I had wildly endeavoured to 

 shoot it ! 



This was our last day, and next morning, 

 forgetting misfortunes and remembering only suc- 

 cesses, we walked merrily in over the hills to 

 Mussoorie, doing eighteen miles in a trifle under 

 five hours. 



It was nearly a month, and we had got to the 

 middle of August before another opportunity 

 for "shikar" presented itself. Meanwhile my 



22 



