324 Sport and Life in the Further Himalaya 



pointer stag which may or may not come out. 

 God knows." 



We are soon on the road, accompanied by 

 a crowd of beaters armed with thick sticks and 

 chattering as only Kashmiris can. The latter 

 by-and-by separate off and we find ourselves climb- 

 ing in single file up a steep grassy spur. Silence 

 is now the order. Presently we reach a wooden 

 structure built into a tree some six feet from 

 the ground. Nothing is left to chance here, for 

 we are beating one of the Maharajah's preserves. 

 Places are drawn for longest at the top, shortest 

 at the bottom and the lowest gun climbs into 

 his machan. The line of machans extends up 

 the hill, four of them, with a couple of hundred 

 yards between each. They are facing the jungle, 

 the edge of which extends up the hill some 

 twenty yards from the line of machans. We 

 have drawn the top place, and as we climb into 

 it a faint sound on the breeze shows that the 

 signal whistle has been heard and our hundred 

 beaters are forcing their way through the jungle 

 towards us, each one yelling as he thinks for 

 dear life, for the Kashmiri has a holy horror of 

 the bear at close quarters. For a long time 

 nothing breaks, the jungle is silent in front of 

 us ; but looking down towards the next rifle we 

 see him slowly rise to his feet, bang a faint 



