THE GAUR. yy 



I could see nothing more of him, but fancying that he must be facing me, I aimed just 

 below his nose, expecting, of course, to hit him in the centre of the throat. There was a 

 tremendous stampede, as all the Gaur rushed through the long grass, but I could see nothing. 

 On going up to the spot where the bull had been, I discovered that he must have been 

 standing with his broadside to me, so that my bullet must probably have only grazed 

 his head or neck. There were only two or three drops of blood, but a broad trail through the 

 high green grass plainly showed the course taken by the frightened herd. The cover was 

 so tall and dense that I sent back for the Elephant and followed up on his back, until we had 

 crossed the grass jungle and reentered the sal forest. I then dismounted and resumed the 

 chase on foot, and had gone but a little way, when I caught sight of the head and shoulders 

 of a Gaur, standing in the shade of a tree. The sun was shining in my eyes, so that I could 

 not see very distinctly, but concluding that it was the wounded bull, I whistled to my 

 Shikari, who had not yet seen it, and fired at the Gaur's neck. I heard the sound of a falL 

 but as the smoke cleared away I could see nothing. I said to the Shikari, " It has fallen," 

 but he replied, " No, it has gone away." I walked up to the spot where the Gaur had stood, 

 and there lay a cow, shot through the neck. It then turned out that when I signalled to 

 the Shikari, he had seen the bull, which was standing in full view of me, but which I had not 

 made out owing to the cow having first attracted my eye. It being now too late to follow 

 up the bull any farther, I returned to camp. 



Next day I saw nothing, but on the 3rd June I crossed the Teesta and hunted through a 

 large extent of country. It was not till we were on our way home that we discovered a 

 fresh track. This led us through all sorts of cover, some of it being very dense and tangled. 

 At length we descried the whisking tails of a bull and a cow, which were standing on the 

 point of a nearly level and tolerably open spur, about a hundred and fifty yards off. The 

 wind was all right, and the stalk appeared to be an easy one, but I had not advanced above 

 fifty yards before another cow, which had been lying down unperceived in some thick cover, 

 sprang up with a loud snort of alarm and dashed away. In an instant the bull wheeled 

 round, tossed his massive head, and disappeared. I ran on, but saw no more of him. 



The next day I again hunted on the left bank of the Teesta, but failed to find a single 

 recent track, and on the following day I was compelled to abandon my trip owing to the 

 whole of my servants and two out of three Mahouts being ill with Terai fever. The rains had 

 commenced, and with them what is considered to be the most unhealthy season of the year, 

 and out of the whole party of three officers and about nine servants who originally left Cal- 

 cutta, one only escaped. Several were very ill, though only one servant died. I was not the 

 exception, though I consider myself very nearly fever-proof, but I was fortunate enough to 

 have a comparatively mild attack, which only lasted two days. 



Four years elapsed before I again had an opportunity of hunting the Gaur, and this time 

 I took advantage of an official visit to the station of Baxa in the Bhutan Dooars, to explore 

 the forests in the vicinity. Having obtained the loan of three Elephants, and having engaged 

 two Nepalese Shikaris who knew the country, I left Baxa. on the 14th March 1882 and 

 encamped at a place called Gangahati, about two miles from the foot of the hills. The 



