THE -500 EXPRESS. HI 



He had a fine brown coat, and was of full size. I slept well that night, 

 quite satisfied with the '450, although I had missed with it in the 

 morning. 



I remember killing a very fine black bear with a single bullet from this 

 little rifle while returning to camp from a day after markhor. That day 

 was an eventful one, for my shikarie (as he was in his youth, probably !) 

 took me up an awful wall of rock, where the foothold was mostly small 

 edges of slatey stuff, about two inches wide, while below us was a clean 

 drop of 1500 feet had we slipped. The old man's nerve was gone, for he 

 shivered and gave up ; had it not been for his nephew, an active young 

 scamp, I should never have got safe out of it, I believe. The old man 

 had been on the ground three times before, he said, and afterwards 

 acknowledged he had always funked it ! I hope none of my readers will 

 have the misfortune to meet with another shikarie of this sort. 



However, I have digressed, and must resume about Bruin. We were 

 thoroughly tired, and had come down into some of that forest scenery 

 that makes jmrts of the Himalayas like dells in an English woodland. 

 There were bushes something like a coarse oleander, with luscious purple 

 berries hanging in small bunches, of which bears and natives were very 

 fond. Suddenly my young attendant thrust the "450 into my hand and 

 pointed out a black bear below us. I could see the bushes moving, and 

 at last got a glimpse of the ears and top of his head. I had loaded while 

 trying to catch sight of him, so was ready, but could not determine 

 where his chest or shoulder was, so had to wait, and caught him as 

 he came out on to a small open space. He was moving up hill and 

 past us, so I just got a glimpse of the chest, aimed where the horse shoe 

 on it should be, and fired, Bound and away he went down hill, making a 

 great outcry, which sounded much the same as a human being shouting 

 " I'm off ! I'm off ! I'm off ! " Having reloaded, I sent a snap shot after 

 him through the bushes, and all noise soon ceased. The natives climbed 

 a tree overlooking the route he had gone, and said he was lying dead. I 

 ordered a few stones to be rolled down, to make quite sure he was 

 defunct, and we then descended to him. We rolled him down to a 

 convenient spot for skinning, and found the bullet had caught him fair 

 nearly in the centre of the horseshoe, cutting the jugular vein and 

 windpipe ; his lungs were a mass of blood, yet he had travelled some fifty 

 yards down hill before he succumbed. The skin was in a beautiful glossy 

 condition, such as one sees on military accoutrements when really well got 

 up. My snap shot had not touched him. 



When narrating about the '450 and bears, I included the occasion on 

 which I missed with it and bagged with the '500. I had some varied 

 experience with the latter, and will just give some details of the powers 

 and defects I found in it. 



I remember well being interrupted in a bit of sewing I was at when 



