22 THE TIGER. 



I at once started for the place, and after a walk of about seven miles, most of which was down 

 hill, I reached two or three small houses situated in a low hot valley. A few hundred yards 

 from these houses was the jungle in which the Tiger was said to live, and the people declared 

 that they heard him nearly every night. I now made enquiries as to the situation of the 

 kill, and found that it was on a rather open spot on the top of a low ridge where several 

 nullahs joined. There were only a few bones left, but as Tigers sometimes visit the scene 

 of a kill when hardly anything remains, I determined to watch the place. There were no large 

 trees near, so I had a shelter constructed of green boughs on the ground, and tied up a cow 

 in a conspicuous position within about twenty-five yards of the ambush. About four o'clock 

 I commenced my watch, giving orders to the villagers to come at once if they heard a shot, but 

 otherwise not to come for me until about nine o'clock, when they were to bring torches. There 

 was no moon, so it was useless to sit up very late. The hours passed away slowly enough until 

 the approach of dusk, when it became necessary to be particularly on the alert, and to strain 

 every sense to prevent the possibility of the Tigers approaching without being discovered. 



On such occasions the ear becomes wonderfully sensitive to the slightest sounds, but it 

 is extremely difficult to educate the eye to see at all clearly at night; and the best eyesight is 

 frequently entirely at fault. In the present instance there was nothing to see, for not even a 

 Jackal paid me a visit, but my hopes were raised to the highest pitch by hearing the distant 

 moan of the Tiger. This was early in the evening, but the sound was not repeated, and the 

 Tiger must have taken his walk in some other direction, for although I left the cow tied up 

 when I returned to the village, we found her untouched in the morning. I could not spare 

 another night at this time, so I returned home, leaving my Shikari with orders to picket a 

 cow every evening, and to send me immediate news if it was killed. 



Two days afterwards a man came in hot haste, with the intelligence that the cow had 

 been killed. It did not take me long to make my few preparations and again set out for the 

 scene of the kill. 



I reached the village early in the afternoon, and found that my Shikari had gone to view 

 the carcase of the cow in the morning and had found that very little of it had been eaten. 

 Without loss of time I made him guide me to the spot, which was indeed plainly indicated 

 by the vultures which soared over it, and perched on the surrounding trees. It was close to 

 where I had watched for the Tiger, and on this occasion he had dragged his prey a little 

 way down one of the ravines. On reaching the bush under which the Shikari had left the 

 dead cow, we found it was gone, but a few paces farther on we found the remains, a great 

 part of the flesh having been devoured since morning. The grass was much trampled down, 

 and it seemed as if two Tigers had been at work, while from the appearance of the carcase 

 it was evident that they had only just left, probably on hearing our approach. There was 

 only one tree of any size from which a view of the carcase could be obtained ; I at once 

 ascended it, and having made a slight screen of green boughs hastily adjusted, I dismissed 

 my attendants with orders to come for me about an hour after dark, as on the previous 

 occasion. There was but little shade from the tree in which I was perched, so I had the full 

 benefit of the hot afternoon sun ; this I did not much mind, but I did mind the swarms 



