“KILLING A MAN-EATER” 169 
miles in the stillness of the jungle, and all natives 
hearing the booming sound know its meaning. I 
advised Tungku to send five or six men back with 
the messenger and for them to stay with him until 
we came the next morning. The hunt was on, and 
all preparations were made at once for our early 
start, as the men began to flock in from the outlying 
kampong. They were to stay at the Tungku’s kam- 
pong that night to be ready to start at daybreak 
after eating their breakfast. There was intense 
excitement throughout the whole night, very little 
sleep for anyone, for, as I told the men, they would 
not return until we had killed the tiger. A few of 
the natives, especially the headmen, had flintlock, 
muzzle-loading rifles. To these I handed out extra 
powder and slugs; they were really good marksmen 
and men who could be depended on at the right 
moment. 
We started at daybreak. The men having eaten, 
everyone was anxious and eager to be off, now that 
the hunt was to be conducted not alone by a white 
man, but in numbers. There were fifty natives; the 
Tungku and two of his headmen with their flint- 
lock rifles rode on the first elephant, while Ali and 
myself followed behind on the second, the third 
with stores bringing up the rear, for I had no idea 
when we would get back. Although the Tungku 
assured me the elephants were well broken, I did 
not place any reliance on them. Riding on an ele- 
phant and jogging along peacefully is one thing, 
