MISCELLANEOUS NOTES. 541 



made safe by a trusty stop. In this place she was killed in a beat by a man 

 who had been after her for three seasons. The big tiger with her should 

 have been bagged at the same time, but was let away by a worthless stop — 

 whether from fright or spite did not appear. He was a Kurku. The tigress 

 made a determined attempt to break out at another place, but was turned by 

 the stop, the bearer of one of the shikaries, a Pathan named, appropriately, 

 " Sher Khan.*' So she had to go forward and was presently killed. 



The deformity of her paw did not appear to have disabled her at all, 

 unless it made her less active. Her teeth and claws were perfect, her coat 

 was good — if anything a trifle short in the hair, but she was getting oldish and 

 she was killed in March. 



The last man-eater I met with seemed the most hopeless of the lot. It 

 was a panther, male, " not very big," with a lame foot. During the rains of 

 1895 he had got into the way of hanging about the village, where he took away 

 two or three children, and slightly mauled a woman who was sleeping on the 

 floor of a hut. After this there was not much seen of him for some months. 



About the beginning of March, 1896, he was seen loitering about the village at 

 night, and the people did not like it. They did not really mind it so very 

 much — at least the mea did not — for he was not likely to hurt them. He 

 only killed children, and the emergency was not really serious enough to 

 make them wake up and try to mark him down and get him killed. They 

 were a poor lot in that village, and I must say I never met with such 

 people in any other part of the jungle. In other places the Gonds used to 

 work for me — quite cordially. Once the panther was reported as having 

 killed a cow out of a herd a few miles from camp. " When he pulled the cow 

 down he tumbled down himself," was the report of the boy who saw it. 

 Although I made all haste to get a macJian put up, it could not be got ready 

 until long after dark, by which time the panther had come and been frighten- 

 ed away, once at least. After I had taken my place he did not return. 



After that I sat up several evenings over tied-up goats. No result. 



Next I sat up all night in a machan near the village, with goats tied up 

 every night for a week. No result : nothing to see, nothing to hear, not a 

 track. At last, in sheer desperation, I started beating every nullah in turn 

 that seemed big enough to hold a panther. But that was not any use either. 

 We never even saw a track. Once only in five weeks we saw a track that was 

 thought to be his (which I doubt) within 200 yards of the village. But it 

 could not be traced from anywhere or to anywhere, and it led to nothing. 



Most of the villagers were Gonds, and, as my shikari was of the same tribe, 

 I expected that they would be glad to give him khabar— especially as it would 

 bring them rupees— but that meant trouble too, so they thought it was do 

 worth it. Perhaps the presence of Kurkus in the village affected the others 

 still, when the panther began to haunt the village again, there was a distinct 

 feeling of uneasiness, and on the whole they wishod him out of the way. 



