206 THE HIGHLANDS OF CENTEAL INDIA 



they could find water, and pitch there. We were to go 

 straight across next day, and, after hunting up the bison, 

 come down the head of the further valley to the camp ; 

 and dearly we paid for giving such indefinite instructions 

 before we were done. 



Next morning we started under the guidance of the 

 Shrimp, and mounted on two redoubtable Deccanee 

 ponies, who we had found could go in these hills wherever 

 we could, and saved us a good lot of hard work in the sun. 

 The way lay up a long burnt valley, in which tracks of 

 sambar, and the pug of a large tiger who had been following 

 them during the night, were plainly visible. It was too 

 late, however, to see any game out in such open country ; 

 and we wound up the rugged pathway leading to the top 

 of the hill without having come across a single animal. 



We now came on to a tolerably level plateau, and rode 

 on for some miles, keeping a sharp look-out for animals. 

 The plateau was beginning to shelve down towards a ravine 

 filled with clumps of bamboo, beyond which rose another 

 flat-topped ridge, when my eye rested on a spot of denser 

 shadow in the thin salei jungle that topped the further 

 ridge. Pulling up to use the binocular, I discovered the 

 whole herd of bison grazing quietly in the cover. We were 

 a couple of miles away at least, and silently withdrew into 

 a hollow that would lead us down into the ravine. T. 

 and I now advanced with the Shrimp, leaving our ponies 

 and the other Bheels to follow us on hearing a shot. We 

 had a long, hot stalk, and on reaching the plateau found 

 that the herd had disappeared. The place was evidently 

 a regular resort of the wild cattle, the long grass being 

 twisted about into wisps by their feet, and all the bushes 

 broken and grazed away. We stalked over the plateau 

 with cocked rifles, the Shrimp swarming trees to look out 

 ahead; but no beeves did we see, except a cow and her 

 little calf making off over a distant rising ground at a slow 

 trot, the sunhght glancing every now and again on their 

 beautifully bronzed hides. There were so many tracks 

 that to follow the herd was hopeless; the Skunk was 

 nowhere to be seen ; and so we coasted round the edge of 

 the plateau, peering down among the bamboo clumps in 



