292 THE HIGHLANDS OF CENTRAL INDIA 



bitch., more lightly made, has considerably the speed of 

 him. As I came up, she made a gallant rush at the hind- 

 most stag, and, springing at his hocks, deer and dog rolled 

 over together. She wanted power, however; and, before 

 the dog was up to help her, the stag was up and pegging 

 away as fast as ever. Two or three of the G6ndi dogs now 

 joined in at a respectful distance, but going as if they 

 meant something. Shortly afterwards I came up to a 

 deep nala, and missing the pass by which the deer and dogs 

 had crossed, lost a deal of distance in trying to find it out. 

 Everywhere else the bank was about twenty feet deep, and 

 nearly perpendicular. At last I found the place, and 

 crossing over, had the satisfaction of finding that I was 

 utterly alone, dogs and deer having disappeared. 



I knew the direction of the river, and rode for that, 

 but soon got into the labyrinth of nalas that fringe its bed, 

 and had the greatest difficulty in forcing my nag through 

 amongst the bamboos. The nalas themselves were a 

 perfect puzzle ; in and out and round about, they twisted 

 like the alleys in Fair Rosamond's bower ; and I several 

 times found myself in the place I had just left. At last 

 I got into the bed of one of th.e principal of them, that 

 led straight down to the Narbada ; and, by dint of occa- 

 sionally putting my head under my pony's neck and 

 forcing him through the bamboos, and here and there 

 leaping a fallen tree, I soon emerged on the shingly banks 

 of the river, and, pulling up to listen, I thought I heard a 

 faint yelp far, far up the stream. 



A broad belt of sand and shingle intervened between the 

 jungle and the shrunken river, along which I galloped for 

 about a mile, the baying of the dogs becoming more and 

 more distinct as I rode. A few minutes after, I reached 

 the scene of conflict — a shady nook of the river, arched in 

 by the massive boughs of trees, interspersed with the 

 feathering stems of the bamboo. A giant forest-tree lay 

 felled by the brink of the pool, worm-eaten and water- 

 logged, as if it had lain there for centuries, and beyond 

 this stood the stag at bay, chest deep in the water. Four 

 of the Gondi dogs and my greyhound bitch were baying 

 him from the log; and just as I arrived a black little 

 Gond, spear in hand, emerged from the forest and jumped 



