Accompanied by my wife and a courier I arrived at Grodno, where I had expected to have a keeper put at my disposal to assist me in finding and stalking the bison; but was rather taken aback at being met at the station by the Governor-General de Ceumern, the Minister of Domains of the province, and a posse of gendarmes.

On the night of our arrival, the Governor-General and Madame de Ceumern entertained us most hospitably, and on the morrow, together with the Minister of Domains, accompanied us by rail to the station nearest to the aurochs’ forest. From that station we drove to the house of the forest ranger, M. Campione, and there supped.

I found that all preparations had most kindly been made for me, and after supper with the Campiones we drove on through the forest, which was lovely in the moonlight, the white rays shining through the leaves here and there, lighting the gnarled trunks of the trees with a touch of silver, anon bursting through a glade and throwing a weird gleam on the mist hanging by the little streamlets, and then at a turn of the road (the moon being brought in front of us) making the most lovely vistas of interwoven branches and leaves, in black on a silver ground.

We arrived late at the Czar’s shooting palace, a small but most comfortable house standing in the centre of the forest, where we were luxuriously put up.

The next morning I carefully unpacked and overhauled my rifle, a Henry express made especially for me. I have shot with it a good many years, and believe that a small weight of lead properly placed—but I will not bore my readers with the old arguments. After breakfast the Ranger, the General, and Madame de Ceumern accompanied us to one of the keepers’ houses where we were to wait. It was a small cottage, and I fear the entrance of our party disconcerted the chasseur’s wife, who, poor woman, was standing by the swing cradle of her newly-born child. As the woman bowed repeatedly when we came in, I laid a few rouble notes on the coverlet, asking Madame de Ceumern to explain that they were for a christening present. This she kindly did when, to my horror, the mother prostrated herself before me, and endeavoured to kiss my shooting-boots. I hopped backwards round the room like a hen, and the grateful female on hands and knees after me. The rest of the party seemed to enjoy the incident too keenly to answer quickly to my frantic appeals to them to tell the good lady to desist; but, as luck would have it, she never caught me, only very nearly, for she went with remarkable ease and speed on her hands and knees.

Soon after this M. Campione came in and told us that we must take our positions, whereupon my wife and I proceeded with M. Campione and a chasseur to my post, by a large uprooted tree at some distance from the hut. The forest was here rather open; on my left stretched a small glade, which gave me a clear view of anything crossing it to a distance of about two hundred yards. On the right, though the trees were fairly thick, there was but little underwood. In front the bushes and undergrowth were much denser, but the ground sloping away from where I stood gave a view of a small clearing about three hundred yards off. Between this clearing and my right and left I could see nothing but underwood.

A great many of the large forest trees were magnificent limes which supported quantities of wild bees, of which there are so many in the forest that men were employed to rob the nests of the honey. M. Campione explained to me in a whisper that they were trying to drive the aurochs past me, the wind being light from the front. We waited in perfect silence for about half an hour, and then I heard the breaking of sticks and crashing of branches, as the herd approached at a gallop. Across the clearing they came, heading to pass me on the left across the small glade. There were about fifteen of them, all thoroughly alarmed, and presenting exactly the appearance of a herd of American bison, the same carriage of the head, and the tail carried in the same manner. Though I had but one short view of them, one bull immediately caught my eye as being much larger than the others. As they crossed the glade almost in file, he was the second, and M. Campione whispered ‘Le second c’est le vieux, tirez-le!’ At that moment they disappeared in the brushwood, but I could hear them coming straight on towards me, so cocking my rifle, I waited for them to cross the glade to my left. Louder came the noise of the crashing of branches; and out burst the leading aurochs across the clearing about eighty yards from me, closely followed by the second and remainder of the herd. Directly the second appeared I fired at it, and rolled it over. Reloading quickly, M. Campione and I ran up, and found I had shot an old female aurochs, the bull having changed his position while passing through the underwood. ‘Stand still,’ said M. Campione, ‘they may come by us again’; and, turned by a hideous din, shouts, noises, and whooping, the scattered herd reappeared, galloping wildly by us on either side. ‘Le voilà,’ said M. Campione, and there could be no mistake this time; for, facing as I was, the forest was clearer, and I could see him distinctly, a grand beast, his tail jerking up over his back in anger, about sixty yards from me, giving me a perfect side shot, of which I made the most, rolling him over with a bullet behind the shoulder. The death holloa was given by M. Campione, and by-and-bye appeared quite an army of chasseurs and beaters. I at once set to work, after all congratulations, carefully to cut the skin low down on the shoulders so as to get plenty of neck, the appearance of so many good heads being entirely ruined by not having sufficient neck to set them up with. This bull was one which had become well known, and I was told that several applications had been made to St. Petersburg that the chasseurs might shoot him, as he was dangerous, and had injured, if not killed, several people. He was much larger than any American bison I have shot or seen; his hair was finer, longer, and not so curly; his colour was a shade lighter, and his horns do not curve at the same angle as those of B. americanus. I noticed a strong aromatic smell about both bull and cow, which they get from a peculiar grass that grows in the forest called zubr grass. I was informed the aurochs are very fond of it. I picked some of it and found that it resembled ribbon grass, but the blade was all green, and had the same strange aromatic smell which I noticed in the aurochs. The height of the bull at the shoulder was about six feet, but he gave me the idea of being a leggier beast than the bison of America. I saw no difference between him and B. americanus which could not be accounted for by climate and habitat. The differences between European reindeer and American barrenland and wood caribou are certainly greater, and the differences between European elk and American moose are quite as great. I explained to General de Ceumern that I had only permission to take the head and skin of the bull, and that I did not consider myself justified in taking that of the female as I had not received the Czar’s permission, but some little time after my arrival at home in England the cow aurochs’ head was by order sent to me, set up, mounted by a Warsaw taxidermist.

CHAPTER X
THE LARGE GAME OF SPAIN AND PORTUGAL

Nominally it is illegal to enter upon any private lands in search of game without a written permission from the owner; but practically the sportsman goes wherever he pleases throughout the length and breadth of this sparsely peopled country, except only in the case of cotos or preserves.

This is an important exception to the big game hunter, for nearly all the regions frequented by red deer, at any rate, are strictly preserved, and wholly forbidden ground to the casual stranger. The snow-clad Alpine regions where the Spanish ibex and chamois are to be found, and a few remote haunts of roe deer and pig among the Sierras, are free to all comers, but the difficulty and expense of arranging drives and of camping-out in these distant regions are very great.

The Government of Spain is unusually civil to aliens, making no special stipulations with regard to their sporting rights. Like everyone else in Spain, the foreigner who wants to shoot must take out a licence to carry a gun (uso de escopeta) and to kill game (cazar). The cost of this is 25 pesetas. In addition to this, each municipality has power to levy a tax in the form of a licence, giving the holder a right to shoot over all lands belonging to the municipality the sporting rights of which have not already been leased. An Englishman furnished with a letter of introduction from his consul would experience no difficulty in obtaining such a licence.

The close-time for large game is, as regards certain northern provinces (Galicia, the Asturias and Santander), from March 1 to September 1, and for the rest of Spain and her Mediterranean islands from February 15 to August 15, but it is to be observed that the law as to close time does not bind game-preservers in their own preserves.

This, in brief, is almost all that an Englishman need know of the game laws of Spain, although perhaps these two quaint clauses (Arts. 37 and 38 Consolidated and Amended Game Law, January 10, 1879) might affect him:—

But the wandering rifleman has little to fear from the law in Spain; on the contrary, if an expedition is planned and carried out with due formality and regard to other people’s feelings, permission to shoot anywhere is rarely refused, assistance even being offered as often as not by the proprietor to the invader.

Spanish sportsmen count the varieties of Caza mayor, or larger game, in their peninsula, to wit, red deer (Cervus elaphus), roe deer (Cervus capreolus), fallow deer (Cervus dama), chamois (Antilope rupicapra), Spanish ibex (Capra hispanica), bear (Ursus arctos), wolf, fox, lynx (Felis pardina), and wild boar.

Of these lynx and fox are only reckoned as large game when killed by a rifle ball, while fallow deer can hardly be said to exist in Spain in a truly wild state, although they come near to it in Aranjuez, where they live free and unenclosed.

As suggested before, ‘driving’ is the commonest form of sport in Spain, but there are two or three old forms of national sport still alive in the country, more picturesque and more in keeping with the popular ideas of the chivalrous Spaniard.

Of these the chasse au sanglier in Estremadura, and the pursuit of the bear by the oseros of the Asturias, are worth a passing notice.

When the acorns are falling from the oaks during the stillness of a moonlit night in the magnificent Estremenian woods, and the ripe chestnuts cover the ground, the valientes of the district assemble and wait for the boars to come down from their mountain fastnesses to feed. As soon as the snapping of some dry twig announces the ‘javato’s’ (boar’s) approach, a hound trained to give tongue to boar only is slipped, and as soon as his first note proclaims a find, a dozen strong half-bred mastiffs are despatched to his assistance.

Then for a while the hound-music frightens the shadows and shocks the silence of the sleeping woods; there is a crashing among the dry forest scrub, a breakneck scurry of mounted men among the timber; then the furious baying of the hounds and the noisy rush of the hunters converge towards one dark point among the shadows, and in the half light a great grizzly tusker dies beneath the cold steel, but not before he has written a lasting record of the hunt on the hide of some luckless hound. Pig-sticking proper, as practised in India, is not known in Spain, though possibly it might be practicable on the plains of Andalusia.

The bears of Spain are of two varieties—the large dark-coloured beast known as ‘carnicero,’ and said to prey upon goats, sheep, pigs, and even to pull down horned cattle upon occasion, and a smaller, lighter-coloured bear called ‘hormiguero’ or ant-eater, which is common in the Asturias, feeding upon roots, ants, and such-like humble fare.

Bear hunting in Spain is confined almost exclusively to the north, to the Pyrenees and Cantabrian highlands. Among the Asturias a kind of hunting brotherhood of peasants still survives, whose members face the bear armed only with pike and knife. These men (los oseros de España), with the assistance of a couple of sturdy dogs, seek out their quarry amid the recesses of the mountains, and slay or are slain in single combat. Their equipment is simple. A broad-bladed knife and a double dagger, each of whose triangular, razor-edged blades fits into a central handle, suffice them for weapons of offence. For defensive purposes they wear a thick sleeve composed of many layers of coarse cloth.

When the bear is brought to bay by the dogs the hunter rushes in; as the bear rises to grip his new assailant the osero plants his knife in Bruin’s chest, and then, as the animal lowers his head for a moment beneath the pain of the blow, the double dagger is driven home to the heart with all the power of the osero’s right arm.

This kind of bear-hunting is hereditary, the profession of osero passing from father to son with the peasants of the Asturias; but for the most part the bear is killed like other game in Spain, by means of large organised ‘drives’ or batidas.

Red deer are found locally and irregularly over several provinces of the Peninsula, differing in type from Scotch red deer in the absence of the shaggy mane or ruff on the neck, and in some slight modifications in the horns. Being chiefly forest deer their heads are narrow, and the animals slim built and game-like. They are found both in the mountains and among the extensive pine forests and scrub-covered plains; but the finest heads are obtained in the Sierra Morena, to the west of Cordova, though the deer are most numerous in the southern wooded plains of Andalusia, in which part of the Peninsula the writers of this chapter, forming two of a party of eight or ten guns, have killed from twenty to thirty stags in a week’s shooting, besides wild boar, lynx, and other beasts, and between sixty and seventy stags in a season.

Deer shooting usually begins in November and ends in February or early in March.

The following are measurements of heads that we have had the fortune to obtain in Andalusia. Though not the largest known, they are good typical heads:—

Forest Deer

Mountain Deer

Of the Spanish chamois there is little to be said. He is more or less common in the Pyrenees, where the French call him the ‘izard,’ the Spaniards ‘rebeco,’ and in the Cantabrian highlands, especially about the Picos de Europa, where he is ignobly slain by driving.

But the great prize of Spain to men of our craft is the ibex—the ‘Cabra montés’ of Andalusia, the ‘bucardo’ of Aragon. The Spanish mountaineers do not much affect ibex hunting, though there are a few hardy souls among them who, donning their alparagatas, or hemp-soled sandals, make a living out of this most fascinating of field sports.

The ibex is found on the highlands of Spain from Biscay to the Mediterranean, and from the Pyrenees to the Straits of Gibraltar, as also on the hills round Andorra, on the mountains of Toledo, and along all the elevated cordillera of central Spain; but its favourite haunt is the Sierra de Gredos. This lofty sierra is the highest point of the Carpeto-Vetonico range, extending from Moncayo through Castile and Estremadura, and forming the watershed of Tagus and Douro. It separates the two Castiles, and passing the Portuguese frontier is there known as the Sierra da Estrella, which, with the Cintra hills, extends to the Atlantic seaboard. Along the whole range of this extensive Cordillera there is no such favourite ground for the ibex as its highest peak—the Plaza de Almanzor. During the winter months the ibex are found on the lower slopes of the range towards Estremadura, but in summer and autumn herds of them, especially the males, make their homes in the environs of Almanzor. The best time for ibex shooting in Spain is during the months of July and August. Heavy snowstorms make sport in the winter dangerous and uncertain.

With regard to the specific distinction of the Spanish ibex, some authorities have held that the ibex of the Pyrenees differs from that of the Sierra Nevada and southern mountains, the former animal agreeing more with the typical ibex of the Alps.

Sir Victor Brooke, in a note just received, remarks, ‘The Pyrenean ibex are much larger beasts than those of the southern Spanish Sierras. In the Pyrenees they are scarce, and live in the worst precipices I ever saw an animal in—they go into far worse ground than the chamois, and are very nocturnal, never seen except in the dusk or early dawn unless disturbed.’

We, however, have found no material difference in the form of the horns of ibex from the Pyrenees and those from Central and Southern Spain. The following are the maximum dimensions of six ibex heads from these latter districts, all measured by the writers:—

Measurements of Six Ibex Heads

All these were shot on the Central and South Spanish sierras.

The following are the measurements of Sir Victor Brooke’s three best Pyrenean ibex heads:—

[It may be added that the writers of this chapter devoted almost the whole of 1891 to the investigation of the natural history of this little-known corner of Europe, so that those specially interested may supplement this sketch by a study of their work, ‘Wild Spain.’—Ed.]

CHAPTER XI
INDIAN SHOOTING

In dealing with such a vast tract of country as India it is out of the question to describe any one class of outfit which will suit the traveller equally well among the snowy peaks and bitter winds of the Himalayas and Ladak and in the furnace-like heat of the plains. Snow is the great obstacle to travel in the former, whilst heat, rain, and malaria are the evils to be contended with in the latter. Nor is one class of weapon equally suitable everywhere. For all soft-skinned animals, such as tigers, and all varieties of sheep, goats, and deer (except sambur) there is no rifle, in the writer’s opinion, that is so satisfactory as a .500 Express with a charge of at least 5¾ drachms of powder. This weapon is sufficiently powerful for any beast to be met with in the Himalayas. Of course, yak may be found, but the chance is so remote that it is barely worth while taking a special rifle for their benefit, and a few cartridges with solid bullets for the .500 will probably meet all requirements. On the other hand, for thick-skinned animals, such as elephants, rhinoceros, gaur, buffalo, and sambur, the smallest bore of any practical use is a 12-bore, and the powder charge for this should be at least 6 drachms. The light bullet of an Express is so easily turned by a small twig that it is absolutely untrustworthy among heavy timber, and it is for this reason that the writer includes sambur with the larger animals. For the big dangerous beasts a still heavier weapon, such as an 8-bore with 8 drachms of powder, is desirable, though not absolutely necessary, as the superior accuracy and handiness of a 12-bore go far to counterbalance the extra power. For antelope and gazelles the writer prefers a light single-barrelled .400 Express, taking 3 drachms of powder, to any other rifle that he has ever used.

So far for rifles. A shot-gun is a necessity everywhere, and one of the best pot-hunting guns (the chief use of a gun on the trip after big game) is one of three barrels—two shot, 16-bore, and a .450 rifle underneath—which will meet all requirements on the march and near camp. As regards tents, the ordinary Cabul tent (part of every officer’s equipment in India), with a smaller one for the servants, is ample for the Himalayas and the plains in the cold weather, but a larger tent is required during the hot weather in the plains. Manifold are the instructions already published as to outfit—‘Large Game Shooting,’ by Colonel Kinloch, ‘The Sportsman’s Guide to Kashmir and Ladak,’ by Major Ward, and ‘The Sportsman’s Vade Mecum,’ by K. C. A. J., are among the best books to consult, as they are written by practical men. Among the points that the intending traveller must bear in mind are: That the unit of transport in the Himalayas is the coolie, and his load over a snow pass is only 50 lbs., though along an ordinary road he can carry 60 lbs. Pack animals can certainly be used over a large portion of the country, but every snow pass forces the traveller back to the unit, so that his baggage must be capable of being arranged in 50-lb. loads. Throughout the rest of India carts can generally travel, and, failing them, camels, oxen, or ponies can always be procured, so that the unit of transport being greater, the sportsman can travel with far greater comfort than he can in the Himalayas. Then, again, if the traveller requires more than sixteen coolies to carry his baggage in the Himalayas, he will be subjected to endless delays at every changing station. A dozen men or so can be collected at short notice almost anywhere, but over sixteen generally means delay till they can be summoned from outlying villages; and perpetual detentions of this class when one is racing for ground are extremely annoying, so that it should be the sportsman’s aim to combine lightness with efficiency in all articles of his outfit, and to travel with the smallest amount of state compatible with his standard of comfort—a standard which, in the writer’s experience, differs with every individual.

As regards expenses, the following may be taken as a rough guide throughout the Himalayas:—

Coolie, per march, 4a.

Coolie, monthly, Rs.6 (without rations if employed near his own village).

Coolie, monthly, Rs.5 (with rations).

Baggage pony, per march, 8a.

Riding pony, per march, R.1.

Baggage yak, per month, Rs.8 to Rs.12 (the drivers bring their own food and provide carriage for it).

Head shikari, in Cashmere, Rs.20 monthly (with rations).

Assistant shikari, in Cashmere, Rs.10 monthly (with rations).

Luncheon coolie, in Cashmere, Rs.7 monthly (with rations).

Head shikari in Gurwhal, Chumba, Lahoul, &c., being local men, Rs.12 to Rs.16 monthly (usually without rations).

Assistant shikari, Rs.8 to Rs.10 (without rations).

Luncheon coolie, Rs.7 (without rations).

Rations consist of 4 lbs. daily of flour or rice for head shikari, assistant shikari, luncheon coolie, and servants brought up from the plains; baggage coolies get 2 lbs. daily of the same. An estimate of Rs.300 a month should amply suffice for travelling in any part of the Himalayas: an old hand will do it for far less, but the Cashmere shikari so thoroughly understands the art of running up the bill, and is so plausible withal, that the majority of his employers will find themselves paying more than its market value for the pleasure of his company. When the sportsman has sufficient experience and sufficient knowledge of the language to employ shepherds and local shikaris to show him the ground near their own homes, he may dispense with the luxury of having a Cashmeree to rule over him, and find great advantage accrue both to his sport and to his purse. It is impossible to give an estimate for big game shooting in the plains, as the rates for transport and beaters vary in every district. As regards servants brought up from the plains, two should be enough, and they should be of the same religion and caste, so as to be able to cook for one another: the writer prefers Mussulmans, as they will eat meat, which Hindus of good caste will not do. In any case they will require extra pay in the hills (an additional Rs.2 or Rs.3 a month should suffice), warm clothing, an extra blanket apiece, and a waterproof bag to pack their things in. Also, as their work begins on arrival at camp, they should, if possible, be mounted for long marches. It is a good plan to hire milch goats from the village which supplies the coolies, and change them when one changes the men in the next district.

The generally accepted rule with regard to shooting grounds in the Himalayas is that the first comer has the right to any minor stream not being the main river of a district (except at its source, where it is considered a minor stream), and to all the land that drains into that stream; but he must occupy the ground in person, and cannot retain it by sending servants or tents there before his arrival, or by keeping servants or tents there during his absence.

In the plains the same rule, though not so accurately laid down, holds good in spirit, viz. that no sportsman should hunt over ground within reach of his neighbour’s camp, and in tiger shooting a beat belongs to the man whose shikaris are tying up for it.

Visitors from home should endeavour to bear in mind that the sport of India naturally and fairly belongs to those who spend the best years of their lives in administering and garrisoning it, and that the assistance they will, as a rule, so freely receive will be given by good sportsmen from sheer love of sport.

In conclusion, the writer begs to express his grateful thanks for the kindly assistance afforded him by the authorities of the Natural History Museum, the Cambridge Museum, and the Senckenburg Museum, Frankfort, and also to the numerous sportsmen and owners of private collections for the generous way in which they have, at no slight trouble to themselves, lightened his labours by contributing records of sport and measurements of horns and animals.

II. THE BEARS OF INDIA AND BURMAH

There are no fewer than five varieties of bears to be found in our Eastern Empire. The three most commonly met with are the Himalayan black bear, Ursus torquatus (native name ‘Kala Bhalu’); the Himalayan snow bear, Ursus Isabellinus (native names ‘Lal Bhalu’; Cashmere ‘Harput’); and the sloth bear of the plains, Ursus labiatus (native names ‘Bhalu,’ ‘Reech,’ ‘Adam zad’).

The Himalayan black bear is common enough on the southern slopes of the Himalayas, but rarely crosses the main snow-line. Being chiefly a fruit and corn eater, in contradistinction to the snow bear, whose main food consists of grass and roots, it likes to live near villages, especially when the maize crops are ripening. Dense jungle is a necessity to it for shelter during the day and for the wild fruit and berries it lives on before the crops are ripe, and this jungle is non-existent on the northern side of the main range. The snow bear is found on both sides of the range, but does not extend to Ladak. Both black and snow bears will kill cattle and sheep if they get the chance, and neither variety is above eating carrion. The black bear with his short sturdy nails climbs readily, while the long digging claws of the snow bear prevent him doing much in that line, though he is said to be able to climb a little. The villagers in the Himalayas have to keep their bees inside their houses both for the sake of warmth in winter and also to prevent the hives being robbed by bears. Both varieties hibernate, but Colonel Kinloch points out, and all natives agree, that while the snow bear is never seen abroad in the winter, the black bear periodically wakes up and makes short excursions for food and water. As regards their comparative ferocity, the snow bear, being generally found and shot in the open, rarely has an opportunity of doing mischief, though he will occasionally show fight. The black bear, on the other hand, from living near villages has partly lost his fear of man, and though he rarely if ever goes out of his way to attack, he will charge freely if cornered, or suddenly disturbed in his midday siesta by anyone walking almost on to him. This is almost invariably the reason wood-cutters and herdsmen get mauled.

One of the best ways to shoot black bears is to have them marked down into ravines or patches of dense jungle on their return from feeding in the early morning, and to wait for them to draw out in the evening just before sunset. As a rule Mr. Bruin is pretty punctual. Shooting bears by moonlight when they are feeding in the fruit trees is generally unsatisfactory work, as so many escape wounded, and having the jungle driven usually ends in disappointment.

The snow bear is easily stalked on the open slopes he frequents, and provided that the wind is favourable, and that the sportsman remains absolutely motionless as long as the animal’s head is turned towards him, he can play almost any trick with a bear, even though standing in full view; but he must be careful not to let the sun shine on the barrels of his rifle, for that at once attracts attention. The best place to find a snow bear is one of those patches of bright green grass that mark the spots where sheep have been folded the year before. The writer knows several instances of black bears having been followed into their caves and shot there under circumstances of intense excitement. Colonel Howard, whose adventures with sloth bear are narrated below, had a sparkling time with a Himalayan black bear in a cave; but it is not everybody’s sport.

Few men, after they have procured a good specimen or two, care to shoot bears. Their skins require more attention than they are worth, and on good shooting ground where snow bears are most common, it is rarely worth the risk of disturbing a good ibex or markhor for the biggest bear in Asia.

Jerdon remarks of the black bear—and the natives of Chumba at all events thoroughly believe it—that when one is caught in a rope snare, if he cannot break it by the first effort he will not try again, but will remain on the spot moaning and looking at the imprisoned paw without attempting to bite the rope.

The sloth bear is the common black bear of Central and Southern India. It extends to the base of the Himalayas, but does not ascend them, its northern limit being about 31° N. Lat. Its long flexible snout and long claws distinguish it at once from its Himalayan cousin, and though it delights in a temperature more suggestive of the necessity of punkahs and ice than of greatcoats, its fur is longer and better. In spite of its long claws it climbs well, and as, like deer and natives, it delights in the nasty-tasting flowers of the ‘mhowa’ tree, a moonlight stroll in March or April, when the blossoms are falling, will often afford the chance of a shot. The best way of hunting these bears is to have them marked down in the early morning like U. torquatus, and then either to stalk or have them driven. Should the bears go into caves, they are easily dislodged by poking sticks or rolling stones through fissures above, or if the cave is shallow a bundle of rags or a turban dangled over the entrance and a few shouts will fetch them out. A firework thrown into or a shot fired down the mouth of the cave is a very effectual summons. Though U. labiatus is both willing and able to do a good deal of mischief, if due precautions are taken few branches of sport afford such a succession of ludicrous episodes. Poor old ‘Adam zad,’ if he is not witty himself, is a fund of merriment to others. Forsyth’s and Sanderson’s books teem with comical situations. The companionship of a fellow-sportsman whose shooting can be relied upon is necessary if full enjoyment of the sport is desired, as tricks may then be played which would be a little too risky to attempt single-handed. Native fireworks, ‘Anar,’ are rather dangerous to use, as they are apt to explode in the hand. Never will the writer forget seeing a lot go off in a howdah during a tiger beat: the poor old elephant went streaking across country like a glorified comet. Two guns are ample for following up a wounded bear on foot in jungle; if there are more the party is apt to get separated, and then, if the bear shows sport, there are too many bullets flying about to be pleasant. Natives, except perhaps one tracker, are only encumbrances. The way a cub will ride on its mother’s back and keep its seat under the most trying circumstances is marvellous. The writer once rolled an old bear clean over without the cub letting go. Sterndale quotes a capital story about this. Rusty coloured bears are not uncommon: the writer saw two in Central India, but as in each case the bear passed under his tree before the tiger in the beat had been fired at, he had to spare them. Bears may occasionally be ridden down and speared, but they are not often found on ground that will admit of this, and the way they ‘sling their chat’ will prevent most horses from going up to them. This bear does not hibernate.

Colonel Howard gives the following account of his experiences in Central India in 1884: