she was struck to the ground with a portion of it remaining in her mouth.

The under-keeper tried to seize the man, but he fled after his companion, and he was too weak to follow in pursuit, and unwilling to leave Gurden and his courageous wife.

"William Gurden and his wife are the pair whom you saw to-day at the lodge of the Widows' Almshouse," said Jonathan Sternpost. "His recovery was most wonderful. The charge entered like a ball, from the proximity of the gun when it was fired-the shot traversed the side and came out in front. The shock, however, to the nervous system, caused paralysis of the lower extremities, and he has lived for years the wreck you saw him. I need hardly say that the admiral never allowed him to want for any thing, and that Mrs. Lauderly gladly acceded to the wishes of him and his wife to reside at the asylum, and attend daily service in the chapel."

"And the man who fired the shot," said I, "was, I presume, Giles Handley?"

"He was, the cowardly wretch! He was taken and hanged, as he deserved, and the bit of cloth that Mary tore from his jacket in the struggle, removed all doubts of his identity. The under-keeper, who was first attacked-we believe with a view to get Gurden out of his house is now my keeper, and will tell you the story of the affray better than I can. So now for Mrs. Sternpost's drawing-room, where the parson is waiting to be summoned to dinner."

EXTRACTS FROM MY INDIAN DIARY.

BY THE OLD FOREST RANGER.

No. V.

A Chapter on Tigers and Tiger-hunting.

As we are now in the land of tigers, and shall have occasion, before we leave it, to record several encounters with these interesting anthropophagi, I shall, with the reader's permission, devote this chapter to a few remarks on the nature of the tiger, and the most approved methods of hunting him.

It was my lot to be stationed for some time in a part of the country infested by tigers, and I had, therefore, frequent opportunities of studying their habits and witnessing their ravages. There were few of the poorer classes, inhabiting the villages in my neighbourhood, who had not lost a relation, either killed in attacking a tiger, or, as was more common, carried off by a man-eater. The number of cattle devoured yearly was also enormous, and the ruin thereby occasioned among the unfortunate Ryots,* independent of the loss of human life, became so serious. that government was induced to offer a liberal reward for the head of every tiger killed. Some idea may be formed of the havoc committed by tigers from the fact, that by official returns made to government, it appeared that in one district alone, three hundred men and five thousand head of cattle were destroyed in the course of three years, giving an average of one hundred men, and upwards of one thousand six hundred and sixty-six head of cattle per annum !

The general character of the tiger is that of a cowardly, treacherous, and bloodthirsty animal. But he occasionally displays extraordinary courage in his attack, and, when once in action, the obstinacy of his defence, and the silent game with which he dies, cannot be exceeded. The capricious nature of his ferocity sets at defiance all theories, founded on individual instances. One sits crouched in his lair till he is shot to pieces, dying like a sullen savage, without making any effort either to charge or to escape. Another avoids the combat at first, but, when wounded, becomes desperate, and fights to the last gasp. While a third will charge and attack the elephant before a shot has been fired. The sneaking, solitary man-eater+-generally an old tigress-either makes off at the first alarm, and so eludes her pursuers; or lies close hid in some impenetrable thicket, from whence nothing but fire can drive her; and even when fire has been resorted to, I have known a tigress remain till half the hair was singed off her body before she could be induced to break cover. But let the rustle of a solitary footstep reach her ear, and the skulking brute is ready enough

Ryots-cultivators of the soil.

† Man-eater—a term applied to those tigers that haunt villages, and prey chiefly

upon men.

May.-VOL. LXVIII. NO. CCLXIX.

G

to come forth. She crawls to the edge of the thicket and looks around. It is only an unarmed traveller. The hungry devil knows well that he is any easy prey, for many a human skeleton lies bleaching in her den; she creeps towards her unconscious victim with the soft and noiseless tread of a cat-her long tail switches from side to side her sharp claws dart from their velvet sheath-the devil is roused within her, and glares in her flaming eyeballs-she throws herself forward with a lashing bound-and the stricken wretch is writhing in her fatal grasp; while, with closed eyes and a low growl, expressive of savage delight, she sucks the warm blood from his mangled throat.

A confirmed man-eater always lurks in the neighbourhood of villages, or close to some well-frequented road, and rarely preys upon any other animal than man. When a tiger thus quarters himself, almost at the doors of the inhabitants, a curse has indeed fallen upon them. The ryots cannot cultivate their fields, but at the risk of their lives. The women dare not fetch water from the well; and the persecuted labourers, returning at sunset from their daily toil, may be seen hurrying along with trembling speed, and uttering loud yells, in hopes of scaring their hidden foe.

Peace and security are banished from that devoted village. Day after day, some member of the little community disappears-the land is filled with mourning-and the death-lament comes swelling on the evening breeze, instead of the gay notes of the zittar, and the merry laugh of light-hearted maidens. The destroying fiend revels in blood, and becomes daily more open in his attacks.

At length the patient Hindoo is roused to desperation. The young men of the village-each trusting that it may not be his fate to fall in the encounter-bind themselves by an oath to avenge the death of their relations, and rid the country of this intolerable pest. Armed with swords and shields, the forlorn hope surround the tiger's lair, and rushing upon him simultaneously, they seldom fail to cut him to pieces; for the Hindoo when once roused to action has no fear of death. But this can only be accomplished when the tiger lies in low jungle; and the victory is in general dearly enough purchased by a fearful expenditure of human life.

If the tiger has taken up his quarters among sugar-canes, or jawarry, a species of grain, which grows to the height of ten feet, he is safe from any attack made by men on foot. It is impossible to dislodge him without the assistance of an elephant, and the poor disheartened villagers must leave their crops neglected, till the unwelcome tenant chooses to depart.

It is on such occasions that the arrival of an European sportsman is hailed as a blessing from heaven; and it is in seeking out and destroying such fearful scourges to the human race, that the principal charm of a sportsman's life in India consists.

Several castes of natives are employed in the arduous and dangerous pursuit of finding tigers; for in Western India the tiger-hunter never beats for his game till it is traced into cover. Working on any other system would not only be rarely successful, but would spoil future sport, by driving from their usual haunts any tigers that might happen to be in the neighbourhood.

In almost every Indian village, there are one or more shikarees, who earn a precarious livelihood by killing game, or finding it for Europeans.

Of these, the most famous are Bheels, a half-savage race, who can follow a trail over the burning sands of Kandeish, with the unerring certainty of a bloodhound.

The Wagrees, another wild tribe, are excellent.

And the Bhendars of the Deccan and Mysore, are also most expert in tracking up all wild animals.

Next to a good elephant, the chief essential of a sportsman's establishment in a tiger-country, is an experienced shikaree; a fellow who ought to have the eye of an eagle, the heart of a lion, the constitution of a rhinoceros, and the patience of Job.

On arriving at a village near likely ground, the first care of a good shikaree will be to ascertain if any bullocks have been carried off lately by tigers, and to proceed in his search, according to the information he may receive. If without any clue to guide him, he with a party of assistants, scours the country, and examines every good cover within a circle of several miles.

When a fresh track is found it is followed up-sometimes for days and nights together-till a satisfactory account can be given of it. From one ravine to another, the broad foot-print is traced, sometimes deeply impressed in sand, at others, so slightly marked on stony soil, as to leave no trace visible to an European eye; but to the lynx-eyed Bheel, the displacing of a pebble, the turning of a leaf, or the bruising of a blade of grass is sufficient, and he carries on his work, in silent confidence, to the last piece of jungle entered by the tiger. Having ascertained, by the closest scrutiny, that the animal has not passed through, the place is surrounded.

The tiger is then said to be "marked down," and like a fox "well found," is considered to be more than "half-killed." Sometimes the leading Bheel, not satisfied with thus marking down the tiger, follows up the trail, till he obtains a view of the sleeping brute in his lair, when he retires with a step soft and noiseless as that of the tiger himself, and sends information to his employer.

I have known a trail thus followed up by Bheels for three successive days, and the tiger found at last. Nothing can surpass the keenness of vision and the instinctive certainty with which these naked savages follow up their game. Beneath a blazing sun they have to pick out the faintest traces, over sand and rocks that glow like heated metal, and throw back upon any other eyes an intolerable glare of light. Yet day after day they toil with determined perseverance, not to be daunted by fatigue, or foiled by disappointment, and rarely do they fail of success.

In parts of the country where good shikarees were not to be obtained, I used to find tigers by fastening a bullock near some ravine or thicket known to be frequented by them; the poor animal was generally carried off in the course of the night, and nothing further was necessary than to follow up the trail of the tiger to some neighbouring cover, where we were sure to find him lying gorged. Tigers are also found when returning at daybreak from their nightly prowl, by men stationed upon trees, who hem them into the first cover they enter. In whatever

manner a tiger is found, the great point to insure success, is to procure plenty of hands from the nearest village, and effectually to surround the place, so as to prevent his stealing away before the elephant arrives. If he becomes restless, as he is apt to do when not gorged with food, a shout is generally sufficient to prevent his breaking cover; for, with all his ferocity, the tiger is a cowardly animal, and much averse to showing himself by daylight.

Having found our tiger, we must, before proceeding to action, devote a few words to that most useful auxiliary the elephant. A really good sporting elephant is invaluable. He beats for his game like a pointer, and carries his rider in safety over the most dangerous ground, and through the thickest covers, which he searches inch by inch, with a degree of patience and sagacity that makes instinct almost amount to reason. Trees that oppose his progress are levelled by his head, or torn down with his trunk; his stupendous weight forces itself through every obstacle; and at the word of command, the sagacious brute picks up stones and hands them to his driver to throw into the thicker parts of the cover.

On finding the tiger, the elephant gives warning of his proximity, by throwing up his trunk and trumpeting; and if well trained, should remain perfectly steady, ready to obey every command of his mahout.

The worst fault an elephant can have, is a propensity to charge the tiger. In doing so, the violence of his motion is apt to unseat the riders, rendering it impossible to take aim; and what is still worse, he generally throws himself upon his knees at the moment of attack, pitching the men out of the howdah by the violence of the shock. This bad habit is usually caused by the mahout encouraging his elephant to trample upon a tiger when killed, and thereby rendering the animal ferocious. Nothing is required of an elephant but to remain perfectly steady when a tiger is found; and the best way of training him to do so, is to make him stand quietly over the tiger after he is killed, without allowing him to touch it, while the mahout encourages him by his voice, and rewards him with balls of sugar dipped in the blood of the animal. Some elephants are so steady, as to allow a tiger to rush up to their heads without flinching; but there are few that are not more or less alarmed by a determined charge. A veteran gains confidence, and is at length made perfect by the coolness of his mahout, and the good shooting of his owner; but those which are ill-entered, turn round, and often run away at the first roar of a tiger; and even the best and most practised are often rendered useless, and become irrecoverably timid, by wounds received in a successful charge.

I have had occasion to use nervous, timid elephants, and they are bad enough; but I would rather ride a determined runaway than a savage brute who insists on killing the tiger himself. It is, no doubt, a severe trial to the nerves to find yourself hurried away by a huge, ungovernable monster, with the prospect of being either smashed against a tree, or rolled into a ravine; but this is nothing to the risk you incur on a fighting elephant, of being pitched into the jaws of an enraged tiger, or pounded to a jelly under the elephant's knees.

On a really good elephant the sportsman is exposed to little danger; less perhaps than in most Indian field-sports. He is raised from ten