Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1929-12-29


their beds or yawn at plays or doze at
operas. They should come out at night
ON foot into tiger land, step by step into
the mysterious dark with thread of light
throwing its will-o -the-wisp ray into the
shadows listening to the bark of the deer
ana the leopardS cry hearing soft rustles
that make them Stiffen in their tracks and their
blood pound so that it seemed the tigers
thud. The taste of life was never SO keen
on my lips as in those times.
Before dawn we were up in the blackness of
49, early tropic hours buckIing on cartridge
pouches and seeing to the guns. We hunted
gaur, buffalo and deer, but still we failed to find
a tiger. Then one morning native materialized
out of the darkness by our tents like an appari-
ton
tiger had eaten the dead buffalo we had set
out bait.
Excitement gripped us A tiger-our chance
at lastI But chance had betrayed us so often
that we had no elation of hope, only tense de-
termination to seize this new opportunity and
see what happened.
Are you sure that it is a tiger which has
eaten2" We wanted to know, grimly mindful of
our day when we had waited and waited and a
giant reptile. not a tiger had emerged.
The tracker was positive. The buffalo had
been eaten as tiger begins eating-at the tail
The tiger must be lying up near, ready to return
We must hurry, to reach our bush before the
light came. No more gaur hunt now Hastily
we swallowed some hot coffee and snatched a
bite or two of bread while the horses were led
up, then we mounted and set out, the tracker
running along ahead of us as guide
The land was ghostly with the first intima-
lions OF morning, and through the grayneSs the
giant pines rose darkly like columns in some
dim crypt The guide circled in and out the
trees and our horses followed closely.
THEN we dismounted and stole through the
E~uerwnY Oh FooA
the ravine. directly above the dead buffalo
More than halfway down the steep slope was the
bush, across which a reinforcing screen of reeds
had been built, and the buffalo was $50 feet
beyond that, directly in front of the green wall
of the jungle.
Down the slope crept, crouching low and
being as silent-footed possible in the attempt
to outwit the stealthy beast, which might be in
any bush before at the moment. If he saw
us the hunt was probably finished before it was
begun. We should spend our weary hours there
in vain.
We reached the shelter of the blind and cau-
tiouSly raised the leaves that covered the tiny
holes left for peepholes. There was a long
stretch OF tall, waving grass Slopng down before
lls. with bushes on each side. then the dark blue
that we knew to be the dead buffalo, and be-
yond, the blotting darkness of the Jungle
Herbert and took our positions, each with
an eye at peephole, our guns leaning beside
us. The tracker squatted on his heels at our
SIDE patient and immobile.
1t was growing lighter and lighter; the dark
ness paIed and retreated as the brightness
gained in the east There little morning
noises, the familiar sounding crow Of the wild
cock, the cropping of q family Of wild pigs on
the grassy slope to the right, the bark of q dis
tant deer.
The sun seemed to shoot up in the sky and
Its heat poured out on us as If door had been
opened from furnace. We stood still there
hlscsonless staring out intentIy.
The buffalo was clearly seen now. Clearly
discerned, IN every meaning. 1t was a long
dead buffalo and it asserted its deafness with
every breath Of the rising breeze. had known
an African cannibal once who for days cherished
lions paw that he used as a sort of savory at
the end Of his regular meals, and had thought
that lions paw was the deadest thing in the
world. But was wrong. It did not seem TO me
that any tiger, that any animal on earth, could
take an appettzing interest in anything so
Vociferously dead that buffalo!
tried to steel myself against it by calling on
all my nature-lovng soul to observe the exquisite