elds, and when the syce saw a peafowl ahead, making for
the jungle, he would shout and try to make it rise. He generally
succeeded, and as I was a little in advance and concealed by the
jungle, I would get a fine shot as the bird flew overhead. I have shot
as many as eight and ten in a morning in this way. I always used No. 4
shot with about 3-1/2 drams of powder.

Unless hard hit peafowl will often get away; they run with amazing
swiftness, and in the heart of the jungle it is almost impossible to
make them rise. A couple of sharp terriers, or a good retriever, will
sometimes flush them, but the best way is to go along the edge of the
jungle in the early morn, as I have described. The peachicks, about
seven or eight months old, are deliciously tender and well flavoured.
Old birds are very dry and tough, and require a great deal of that
old-fashioned sauce, Hunger.

The common name for a peafowl is _m[=o]r_, but the Nepaulese and Banturs
call it _majoor_. Now _majoor_ also means coolie, and a young fellow,
S., was horrified one day hearing his attendant in the jungle telling
him in the most excited way, '_Majoor, majoor_, Sahib; why don't you
fire?' Poor S. thought it was a coolie the man meant, and that he must
be going mad, wanting him to shoot a coolie, but he found out his
mistake, and learnt the double meaning of the word, when he got home
and consulted his _manager_.

The generic name for all deer is in Hindustani HURIN, but the Nepaulese
call it CHEETER. The male spotted deer they call KUBRA, the female
KUBREE. These spotted deer keep almost exclusively to the forests, and
are very seldom found far away from the friendly cover of the sal
woods. They are the most handsome, graceful looking animals I know,
their skins beautifully marked with white spots, and the horns wide and
arching. When properly prepared the skin makes a beautiful mat for a
drawing room, and the horns of a good buck are a handsome ornament to
the hall or the verandah. When bounding along through the forest, his
beautifully spotted skin flashing through the dark green foliage, his
antlers laid back over his withers, he looks the very embodiment of
grace and swiftness. He is very timid, and not easily stalked.

In March and April, when a strong west wind is blowing, it rustles the
myriads of leaves that, dry as tinder, encumber the earth. This
perpetual rustle prevents the deer from hearing the footsteps of an
approaching foe. They generally