THE HIGHER NARBADA 273 



cocks ruffle out their magnificent plumage, and spread 

 their gorgeous trains, and waltz round and round them 

 in a most absurd fashion. Th^ boatmen are fond of 

 trying to catch them when absorbed in this dance of 

 love ; and, though I have never seen one actually secured, 

 I have seen an active fellow get so near as to pluck some 

 feathers from the tail of the collapsed and retreating 

 swain. No riotous sounds offend the ear in this peaceful 

 valley. The Koel, bird of the morning, raises now and 

 then his staccato note from some overhanging tree, or 

 the giant Sarus crane floats his tremulous cry along the 

 calm surface of the lake-Hke river. 



But hark ! From a clump of tangled bamboos, over- 

 hanging the mouth of a little burn that joins the river, 

 rings the loud beUow of a spotted buck. The boatman 

 sticks his long pole down to the bottom, and anchors 

 the dug-out, while the sportsman, with cocked rifle, 

 watches in the bow. Presently a rustle and a motion 

 in the fringe of bright-green jaman bushes that edge the 

 river, and the head and shoulders of a noble buck emerge, 

 one fore-foot advanced hesitatingly to the strip of yellow 

 sand beside the water. Another instant and he stands, 

 a statue of grace and beauty, on the open beach. Now 

 he has seen the boat, and his careless mien is changed 

 for an attitude of intense regard. Motionless, head thrown 

 up, and antlers sweeping his flanks, he might be photo- 

 graphed for the second or two he stands at gaze. In 

 an instant more he will wheel round and plunge into the 

 thicket, unless stopped by the deadly biJlet. The true 

 sportsman wiU often spare the beautiful creature, even 

 when thus at the point of his rifle, when a week or two 

 of the easy sport has satiated his ardour, and filled his 

 camp with meat and trophies of graceful antlers. It 

 was impossible in those days to walk half a mile along 

 the river bank without seeing deer, and I have known 

 an indifferent shot kill six bucks here in a morning. 



There was some excitement in the chance of stum- 

 bling on a tiger in the cool thickets of green cover by 

 the river, or, like the sportsman, stalking the spotted 

 deer. I was following a wounded buck once, when I 



