188 THE HIGHLANDS OF CENTEAL INDIA 



Gonds and Korkis out with, us at the boundary work, and 

 the prospect of abundance of meat readily induced them 

 to beat for us, A long slope of broken ground between 

 the foot of the scarp and the bottom of the glen was to be 

 beaten crossways ; D. took the post just below the scarp, 

 E. remained near the bottom, and I had the middle place. 

 I screened myself behind the thick double trunk of a teak 

 tree, forking from the ground. The beat was a short one, 

 and I had not waited long before a tremendous crashing 

 on the hill-side above me, followed by a shot from D., 

 announced the approach of some heavy animal. I thought 

 it was a bull bison at least, and was surprised when a sambar 

 stag burst through the underwood just in front of me, 

 and, with horns laid along his flanks, clattered down the 

 steep hUl-side. He was going full speed, and was much 

 screened by the long grass and dry bamboos, which he 

 scattered on every side in his passage, so that I had not 

 much confidence in the broadside shot wherewith I greeted 

 him proving successful. Something told me I had hit 

 him, however — a sportsman who has shot much is seldom 

 mistaken in his inward heart as to the truth of his aim — 

 and although he crashed away apparently untouched I 

 ran eagerly to the place where he had passed to look for 

 blood. Before I arrived I heard the ring of a rifle in E.'s 

 direction, and then a long holloa which told me that the 

 stag was down. Though greatly disappointed at losing 

 the magnificent head which I saw he carried, I went on 

 to the trail, and there I found great gouts of the red and 

 frothy blood that tells of a shot through the lungs. Some 

 of the Gonds now came up, and I left them to run the 

 trail down-hill, while I hastened down to where the stag 

 had fallen. He lay on his side, close to E.'s post, which 

 he had been passing full speed when he fired and toppled 

 him over. The shot hole was, however, in his haunch, 

 and that wound I knew would never stop a stag like this. 

 So we turned him over and found my bullet hole on the 

 other side, just a little too high for the heart. It was a true 

 enough shot after all, and I was very glad when I measured 

 by spans his splendid horns, though sorry for the dis- 

 appointment of a brother sportsman. 



