256 THE HIGHLANDS OF CENTKAL INDIA 



he could not kick Mm ofi, paused to think what he would 

 do next. I seized that placid interval to lean over behind 

 and put the muzzle of the rifle to the head of the tiger, 

 blowing it into fifty pieces with the large shell. He dropped 

 like a sack of potatoes; and then I saw the dastardly 

 mahout urging the elephant to run out of the cover. An 

 application of my gun-stock to his head, however, reversed 

 the engine; and Sarju, coming round with the utmost 

 willingness, trumpeted a shriU note of defiance, and rushing 

 upon his prostrate foe commenced a war-dance on his body, 

 that made it little less dijB&cult to stick to him than when the 

 tiger was being lacked off. It consisted, I believe, of 

 kicking up the carcase with a hind-leg, catching it in the 

 hollow of the fore, and so tossing it backwards and forwards 

 among his feet, winding up by placing his huge fore-foot 

 on the body and crossing the other over it, so as to press 

 it into the sand with his whole weight. I found afterwards 

 that the elephant-boy, whose business it is to stand behind 

 the howdah, and, if necessary, keep the elephant straight 

 in a charge by applying a thick stick over his rump, had 

 had a narrow escape in this adventure, having dropped off 

 in his fright almost into the jaws of the tiger. The tiger 

 made straight for the elephant, however, as is almost 

 invariably the case, and the boy picked himself up and 

 fled to the protection of the other elephant. 



Sarju was not a perfect shikari elephant; but his fault 

 was rather too much courage than the reverse, and it was 

 only his miserable opium-eating villain of a mahout that 

 made him turn at the critical moment. He was much cut 

 about the quarters ; but I took him out close to the tents 

 two days after and killed two more tigers without his 

 flinching in the least. The tiger we had thus killed was 

 imdoubtedly the man-eater. He was exactly ten feet long, 

 in the prime of life, with the dull yellow coat of the adult 

 male — not in the least mangy or toothless like the man-eater 

 of story. He had no moon on his head, nor did his belly 

 nearly touch the ground. I afterwards found that these 

 characteristics are attributed to all man-eaters by the 

 credulous people. 



Before dismissing Sarjii from these pages, I would 



