280 A Sportswoman in India 



to the left of a red ant-heap he would consider it 

 cribbing his shot." 



(N.B. Heat and flies are an excuse for writing 

 anything.) 



I shot my third tiger under the following circum- 

 stances. We were each up in our machans ; and the 

 beaters were working towards us, trying to drive 

 out a tiger, who was evidently in a cool, damp spot, 

 where he wished to remain. Instead of waiting to 

 fire the tall, dry grass, or else sending buffaloes in, 

 either of which expedients generally moves a tiger, 

 the beaters, with the careless sangfroid which is so 

 characteristic of them, plunged on through the reeds 

 and must have got too close to him. 



Suddenly, only two or three feet away from one 

 terror-stricken wretch, up leapt the tiger ! <c Bagh ! 

 bagh / " resounded on all sides, and every man was 

 shinning up a tree in a moment for all he was worth. 

 It would have been a funny sight to watch the 

 whole jungle, apparently, vibrating under eighty or 

 more black bodies scurrying up like monkeys into the 

 branches ; but, fearing a catastrophe, we sat straining 

 our eyes, fully expecting the cry which ensued. 



None of us actually saw what happened ; but I 

 gather that, as the tiger pounced, the native sprang 

 towards a tree. Where is a man, when matched 

 against that lithe, powerful body ? One dart, one 

 crunch, and the tiger dashed back at a gallop 

 farther into the jungle, while -the poor coolie subsided 

 on to the ground, bitten through the thigh. We 



