106 
FOREST AND STREAM 
Jan. 24, 1914. 
whom he knew well, would continually see him. 
He importuned these gentlemen in regard to his 
pension, which had lapsed, and besought them to 
come to the aid of his misery and bestow upon 
him the pension which was his due after so many 
years of service, and which would enable him to 
end his days in peace! In this manner he made 
himself such a nuisance to the India Council that 
sure it is that for the sake of peace and quiet, 
they bestowed a pension on Mr. Snodgrass, thus 
unthinkingly and automatically exonerating him 
from the blame attaching to him on account of 
his doings in India. 
Now, here comes the funny part of this ver¬ 
acious history. The very next day after the res¬ 
toration of his pension Mr. Snodgrass, dressed 
in the height of fashion and driven in a fine car- 
riage-and-pair, called at the India Office to tender 
his thanks in person! 
So, over the lake we roamed, lazily north¬ 
ward, from shore to shore and islet to islet, 
whithersoever the whim of the moment took us, 
now pitching camp at sundown in some fairy 
spot which took our fancy, now anchoring for the 
night off some island or headland or in some 
.curving bay. The peace and the rest and the 
■quiet of it all, and the freedom and the intimacy 
vwith nature! And the nights ! 
Ah! those eastern nights by lake or stream, 
in the jungle or by the sea. The stillness and 
.silence, save for the gentle murmur of the waves 
rippling along the shore—a silence of mystery 
■and of charm, broken now and again by the weird 
sounds of the jungle and the soughing of the 
breeze among the branches. And then the moon¬ 
beams, reaching and glancing toward one in a 
shimmering stream of silver; there is no glory 
like the eastern moon shining down from out of 
a clear sky. 
Now, I want to tell of those islands in the 
Lake of Chilka. One evening we put in at Gupu- 
kudha, famous on account of Snodgrass’ bunga¬ 
low, which is hardby a pleasant stream and an 
old Hindu temple. Here we stayed some days 
repairing the houseboat’s mast, an ancient con¬ 
trivance with which we nearly parted company 
on account of my excessive zeal with the sail. 
Here, also was some fine duck-shooting o’ early- 
mornings some of the best duck-shooting in the 
world. Some fine sport among the snipe, too, to 
be had for walking up the muddy reaches. Duck 
and teal, partridge and quail, snipe and plover, 
everywhere for the shooting. Only to get up 
with the dawn or before and, set off with one s 
gun and one attendant in a native dug-out canoe. 
One morning, in wading along the shallows 
after some duck, I was rescued only just in time 
as I was fast disappearing in a mud-hole into 
which I had stepped. Had I been alone that 
would have been the end of me. 
Then there is Deer Island, a haunt of the 
red stag, covered with dense jungle broken, here 
and there, by grassy glades and feeding grounds. 
And there is Hog Island, low land covered with 
scrub-jungle, to which the wild boar betake them¬ 
selves at low tide. Both these afforded me glori¬ 
ous sport, but it was necessary to employ beaters 
to drive the game. 
Crocodile Island is another, a mere jumble 
of rocks among which I stalked and killed a fine 
ten-foot mugger after much difficult going dur¬ 
ing which the feet and shins suffered severely. 
There is an island which I named Golgotha. 
On it there is a small shrine dedicated to the 
dread goddess Kali, of whose wrath every pious 
Hindu is in deadly fear. There was a time when 
only human sacrifice was held to appease this 
terrible deny, but such rites no longer obtain. 
All the same, life in some form and suffering 
must be the offering. So now devotees bring 
oxen and sheep and goats, and leave them to per¬ 
ish slowly of starvation at the shrine, for the 
island is utterly devoid of all vegetation. All 
around the temple is one mass of whitening 
bones from which the odor is sickening. Truly 
a place of death. 
Then, there is Pigeon Island, a great up- 
piled mass of bare boulders among which a few 
slunted trees manage to retain root. This island 
is the home of myriads of great grey pigeon, the 
like of which I have seen nowhere else. Wild 
and swift on the wing they are, and difficult to 
bring down. 
One day I got news of a sambhur stag being 
close at hand on the mainland, and very shortly 
after landing we put up a fine stag with a very 
fine head and antlers. He winded me at once, 
however, and I had only a snap-shot, as he 
bounded swiftly over the scrub, and missed him. 
I noted the direction he was taking, which I 
judged would lead him around the base of a low 
hill, and decided to cross the hill and wait for 
him, as he came around, while I sent my men to 
follow in the direction the stag had taken. The 
hill proved a difficult task, and once, in climbing 
down the far side, I stumbled and fell headlong 
down among the rocks, fortunately at the expense 
only of a few cuts and bruises. However, ar¬ 
rived breathless at the bottom, my calculations 
proved correct, for presently His Royal Highness 
came sauntering along, quiet but alert, and a well- 
placed shot laid him low. 
Once, I had gone some way into the interior 
for jungle sheep, getting some beaters to drive 
up and over a low hill toward me. I lay prone 
in a hole just out of the jungle belt. Suddenly, 
when the beaters had come close, there was a 
scramble and rush and a fine panther, leaped by 
me, so near that I could almost have touched 
him. In a second, and before I had recovered 
from my surprise, he had disappeared behind a 
spur of rock, and I never saw him again. What 
if he had broken out a few feet further to my 
right which would have landed him right on the 
top of me! 
Then, I bagged a hyena and some little sand 
deer on the spit of sandy beach between the lake 
and the sea. What they did there I could never 
imagine, as there is nothing on which to feed and 
only salt water to drink. I came on the hyena 
unexpectedly one evening when I had landed with 
bare feet for a walk along the shore, while the 
“fleet” proceeded at a leisurely pace ready to pick 
me up when I tired of my exercise. I caught 
sight of the animal on the seaward side as my 
head rose above the banked sand, and immedi¬ 
ately dropped prone. Not having brought my 
rifle I had to signal to the launch for it. Mean¬ 
while my animal moved on rapidly, and I had a 
long run before I obtained the shot which drop¬ 
ped him. 
And so the days passed, happily and serenely, 
but all too quickly, and my holiday was spent. 
The memory of those days on the Chilka lingers 
ever fresh, and I wonder shall I ever revisit those 
scenes. But the dear old Rajah is dead and 
sleeps with his fathers, and his son, whom I knew 
as an infant, rules in his stead. 
Tuxedo Park, Jan. 8th, 1914. 
Mr. Peter Flint, 
Care of Forest and Stream, New York: 
Was much interested in your article in last 
week’s issue of Forest and Stream, and find that 
your views and their expression are almost ex¬ 
actly those of my own. It is not the number of 
fish that are turned out that counts, its ultimate 
results, and these will never be any better unless 
some radical changes are brought about in the 
distribution and planting of the great numbers 
that the hatcheries rear. 
The Rajah of Kallikote and Attagada During Some of His Birthday Ceremonies, Surrounded by 
His Brahmin Priests or Holy Men. The Rajah Usually Affected European Cos¬ 
tume, But on This Occasion is Seen in His Simple National Dress. 
