the men all seized their guns and revolvers, and
then we heard the sound of crashing branches, and of something heavy
sliding down into the precipice. The alarm was general.

"What is the matter now?" said the calm voice of Gulab-Sing, and I again
saw him on the stone bench. "Why should you be so frightened?"

"A tiger! Was it not a tiger?" came in hasty, questioning tones from
Europeans and Hindus.

Miss X---- trembled like one stricken with fever. "Whether it was a
tiger, or something else, matters very little to us now. Whatever it
was, it is, by this time, at the bottom of the abyss," answered the
Rajput yawning.

"I wonder the Government does not destroy all these horrid animals,"
sobbed poor Miss X----, who evidently believed firmly in the omnipotence
of her Executive.

"But how did you get rid of the 'striped one'?" insisted the colonel.
"Has anyone fired a shot?"

"You Europeans think that shooting is, if not the only, at least the
best way to get rid of wild animals. We possess other means, which are
sometimes more efficacious than guns," explained Babu Narendro-Das Sen.
"Wait until you come to Bengal, there you will have many opportunities
to make acquaintance with the tigers."

It was now getting light, and Gulab-Sing proposed to us to descend and
examine the rest of the caves and the ruins of a fortress before the day
became too hot, so, at half-past three, we went by another and easier
way to the valley, and, happily, this time we had no adventures. The
Mahratti did not accompany us. He disappeared without informing us
whither he was going.

We saw Logarh, a fortress which was captured by Sivaji from the Moguls
in 1670, and the ruins of the hall, where the widow of Nana Farnavese,
under the pretext of an English protectorate, became de facto the
captive of General Wellesley in 1804, with a yearly pension of 12,000
rupees. We then started for the village of Vargaon, once fortified and
still very rich. We were to spend the hottest hours of the day there,
from nine in the morning until four in the afternoon, and proceed
afterwards to the historical caves of Birsa and Badjah, about three
miles from Karli.

At about two P.M. when, in spite of the huge punkahs waving to and fro,
we were grumbling at the heat, appeared our friend the Mahratta Brahman,
whom we thought we had lost on the way. Accompanied by half-a-dozen
Daknis (inhabitants of the Dekhan plateau) he was slowly advancing,
seated almost