loo WILD LIFE IN NORTH CANARA. 



but beyond a dim twinkling of tawny 

 legs among the canes, I could make 

 out no distinct form, and of course did 

 not attempt to fire. The wild herd 

 were aware of us, and instinctively 

 avoided us in their rush ; but they 

 could not have seen more of us than 

 we did of them. 



I once killed a bull bison near Nag- 

 wadi, on the Mysore border, and 

 learned why it is that the head of the 

 animal seems , so nearly invulnerable. 

 It was in the sultry month of May, and 

 the grass had been burnt on the bare 

 hills outside the forests. A herd of 

 bison broke cover and crossed a bare 

 and blackened plain on their way to 

 the opposite jungle. A handsome bull, 

 just full grown, led the herd, and as 



