274 THE HIGHLANDS OF CENTEAL INDIA 



thus almost trod upon a tiger doing the very same thing. 

 It was in the dusk of the evening, when I saw him about 

 twenty paces ahead of me, reading up the bloody trail 

 like a retriever on a winged pheasant. He was passing 

 over a low ridge between two ravines, and I was below 

 him — a situation awkward for a foot-encounter with any 

 dangerous animal. I therefore waited till he disappeared 

 on the other side, and then running softly up, peered 

 down from behind a clump of bamboos. Presently I 

 saw the wounded buck and two does start out of some 

 cover beyond the further ravine, and then a motion of 

 the tiger, who had been standing a little below them, as 

 he quickly crouched out of their sight, revealed him to 

 me. I sat down, and took a steady shot at his shoulder 

 at about seventy yards. He rolled back into the nala, 

 above which I was standing, and, after a good deal of 

 growling and strugghng among the leaves, all was still. 

 It would have been folly to go down to him in such un- 

 certain light, so I returned to the boat, going back next 

 morning with an elephant to see the result. It was just 

 as well I had not ventured down in the dark the night 

 before ; for, after lying some time where he fell, and leaving 

 a great pool of blood on the ground, he had afterwards 

 recovered himself, and gone slowly and painfully off towards 

 the river. We followed up the track, and about three 

 hundred yards further down found him, by the chattering 

 of birds, lying stiff and stark under a bush. He had 

 never reached the water he sought. 



About twenty-five miles above Jubbulpiir is a curious 

 place called " The Monkeys' Leap." A small tributary 

 of the Narbada, called the Baghora (or " Tiger Eiver "), 

 here comes down from the southern hills, and, after 

 approaching the Narbada within about a hundred yards, 

 sheers off again, and runs some miles before it finally 

 joins it. Deep water fills both the channels opposite 

 the narrow neck, and the strip of cover between the rivers 

 is a favourite resort for all sorts of game in the hot season. 

 I was invited by a neighbouring Thakiir, a Rajput, to 

 join a drive for game he was arranging at this place, in 

 which he hoped to secure a famous tiger that had long 



