212 A Sportswoman in India 



was making right in our direction, when he altered 

 his course and turned left-handed. Lalla and S. ran 

 along to intercept him when he crossed open ground ; 

 but the harpat was extraordinarily quick : he dodged 

 behind a tree or two, passed some rocks, and never 

 gave a chance of a fair shot. Finally, he slipped across 

 the open space ; S. fired twice, and both bullets whistled 

 harmlessly by him, as he went out of sight in the 

 depths of the forest on the other side. 



It was altogether a very bad piece of luck. 



Honk number three was not more fortunate. We 

 got on our tats again and rode as far as possible, until 

 we had to ascend a long ravine. It was sunless, and 

 after the now burning hillside, almost like going into 

 an ice cavern. The sun, directly it had risen, became 

 scorching, for we were comparatively low down ; black 

 bear, as I said, like warmth. It was a toil, walking 

 and climbing into the positions for honking. 



Now in this deep, cold nullah the sun's rays could 

 not be felt. Deodars, spruces, and pines almost met 

 from either side across it, and hid every glimpse of 

 sky. Little birches and stunted bushes grew thick, 

 moss carpeted the ground, clumps of maidenhair fern 

 flourished in green profusion, a small stream trickled 

 among the wet, lichen-covered rocks, dew still hung 

 on everything ; it was gloriously cool. Having come 

 out at the top at last, we made for a little wood, 

 bordering on Indian corn fields. A Kashmiri had 

 brought khubr to the effect that a bear had been 

 seen going into the plantation at daybreak. 



