OLD EMAM THE AFRICAN. 
43 
negro in the wilds of this forest, but I was told there were 
several villages in this neighbourhood inhabited by descen- 
dants of Africans, supposed to be fugitive slaves and deserters 
from the hosts that formerly invaded southern India. Emam 
had all the appearance of a pure negro or seedee, like the 
coal stokers you meet with in the P. and O, steamers. 
Besides Emam, we hired another man, Modeen by name, who 
had a deal to learn to be as perfect as the old man ; however 
he was not a bad young fellow. I killed my first bison with 
him ; it was a fine young bull with pretty horns, but nothing 
to what I killed in after years, though the grand expressions 
I make use of in my journal, such as "bleeding monster" and 
so on, show how proud I was at the time of bagging him. 
He required several shots, and I dropped him dead when he 
was about to charge. I also killed my first sambur stag on 
this trip, a poor *'beastie" as they would say in the High- 
lands, but I evidently did not think so at the time. 
We only remained ten days in the forest as our great 
ambition was to get a tiger, and our best chance of doing so 
was in the ravines and jnngles beyond the Dandilly forest 
We had fair sport during the ten days, and I enjoyed the 
stalking immensely, especially when I had old Emam 
with me. 
A curious incident occurred one day when I was out 
with Modeen. We struck the fresh track of a bull bison, 
followed it up, and came to where he had entered a patch of 
grass of some extent, and about six feet high. We stood on 
the edge for a minute or two peering in, when about fifteen 
yards from us 1 saw the grass twitching from side to side, very 
much as 1 should think it would do if a tiger was whisking 
his tail before he made up his mind to spring ; I kept my eye 
