striped monster might have eluded us.  Marching and counter-marching through the heat of the day, we picked up another-prize in the afternoon.  It was a large old tiger, nine feet six as he lay; he fell an easy prey to the gun of the little collector of Pegnugger, who sent a bullet through his heart at the first shot, and smiled rather contemptuously as he removed the empty shell of the cartridge from his gun.  He would rather have had Kildare’s chance in the morning.

After all, two tigers in a day was not bad sport for the time of year.  I knew Isaacs would be disappointed at not having had a shot, where his rival in a certain quarter had had so good an opportunity for displaying skill and courage; and I confessed to myself that I preferred a small party, say, a dozen elephants and three howdahs, to this tremendous and expensive battue.  I had a shot-gun with me, and consoled myself by shooting a peacock or two as we rolled and swayed homewards.  We had determined to keep to the same camp for a day or two, as we could enter the forest from another point on the morrow, and might even beat some of the same ground again with success.

It was past five when we got down to the tents and descended from our howdahs, glad to stretch our stiffened limbs in a brisk walk.  The dead tigers were hauled into the middle of the camp, and the servants ran together to see the result of the sahib log’s day out.  We retired to dress and refresh ourselves for dinner.

* * * * *

CHAPTER X.

In Isaacs’ tent I was pulling off my turban, all shapeless and crumpled by the long day, while Isaacs stood disconsolately looking at the clean guns and unbroken rows of cartridges which Narain deposited on the table.  The sun was very low, and shone horizontally through the raised door of the tent on my friend’s rather gloomy face.  At that moment something intercepted the sunshine, and a dark shadow fell across the floor.  I looked, and saw a native standing on the threshold, salaaming and waiting to be spoken to.  He was not one of our men, but a common ryot, clad simply in a dhoti or waist-cloth, and a rather dirty turban.

“Kya chahte ho?”—­“What do you want?” asked Isaacs impatiently.  He was not in a good humour by any means.  “Wilt thou deprive thy betters of the sunlight thou enjoyest thyself?”

“The sahib’s face is like the sun and the moon,” replied the man deprecatingly.  “But if the great lord will listen I will tell him what shall rejoice his heart.”

“Speak, unbeliever,” said Isaacs.

“Protector of the poor! you are my father and my mother! but I know where there lieth a great tiger, an eater of men, hard-hearted, that delighteth in blood.”

“Dog,” answered Isaacs, calmly removing his coat, “the tiger you speak of was seen by you many moons since; what do you come to me with idle tales for?” Isaacs was familiar with the native trick of palming off old tigers on the unwary stranger, in the hope of a reward.