p hurries Legs, and the jackal
gets a grip, gives him a shake, and then hobbles slowly on. The two
terriers now hamper him terribly. One minute they are at his heels, and
as soon as he turns, they are at his ear or shoulder. The rest of the
pack are fast coming up.

Anthony has a magnificent bulldog, broad-chested, and a very Goliath
among dogs. He is called 'Sailor.' Sailor always pounds along at the
same steady pace; he never seems to get flurried. Sitting lazily at the
door, he seems too indolent even to snap at a fly. He is a true
philosopher, and nought seems to disturb his serenity. But see him
after a jackal, his big red tongue hanging out, his eyes flashing fire,
and his hair erected on his back like the bristles of a wild boar. He
looks fiendish then, and he is a true bulldog. There is no flinching
with Sailor. Once he gets his grip it's no use trying to make him let
go.

Up comes Sailor now.

He has the jackal by the throat.

A hoarse, rattling, gasping yell, and the jackal has gone to the happy
hunting grounds.

The sun is now mounting in the sky. The hounds and terriers feel the
heat, so sending them home by the keeper, we diverge on our respective
roads, ride over our cultivation, seeing the ploughing and preparations
generally, till hot, tired, and dusty, we reach home about 11.30,
tumble into our bath, and feeling refreshed, sit down contentedly to
breakfast. If the _dak_ or postman has come in we get our letters and
papers, and the afternoon is devoted to office work and accounts,
hearing complaints and reports from the villages, or looking over any
labour that may be going on in the zeraats or at the workshops. In the
evening we ride over the zeraats again, give orders for the morrow's
work, consume a little tobacco, have an early dinner, and after a
little reading, retire soon to bed to dream of far away friends and the
happy memories of home. Many an evening it is very lonely work. No
friendly face, and no congenial society within miles of your factory.
Little wonder that the arrival of a brother planter sends a thrill
through the frame, and that his advent is welcomed as the most
agreeable break to the irksome monotony of our lonely life.

CHAPTER VI.

Fishing in India.--Hereditary trades.--The boatmen and fishermen of
India.--Their villages.--Nets.--Modes of fishing.--Curiosities
relating thereto.--Catching an alligator with a hook.--Exciting
capture.-Crocodiles.--Shooting an allig