chattering, and quarrelling, entirely
unconcerned by the presence of their human spectator.

_Friday, October 6_.--All Tuesday was spent in honking bear in the lower
woods which stretch far towards the Pohru. The high hills which rise above,
covered with jungle, are said to be too large to work, and I can well
believe it! For the first drive I was posted on a steep bank overlooking a
most lovely little hollow, where the shafts of sunlight fell athwart the
grey trunks and heavy green masses of the pines, lighting up the yellow
leaves of the sumachs till they glowed like gold, and casting a flickering
network of strong lights and shadows among the tangled mazes of
undergrowth. A happy family of magpies, grey-blue above, with barred tails
and yellow beaks, flitted about in restless quest, their constant cries
being the only sound which broke the peaceful stillness, until the faint
and distant sound of shouts and tom-toms showed that the first act of the
farce had begun.

Towards the end of the third beat, while I was drowsily digesting tiffin,
and, truly, not far from napping, I was electrified by the report of a
rifle, followed by yells and a second shot! The beaters redoubled their
shouts, and the tom-tommers seemed like to burst their drums.

My shikari, writhing with extreme excitement, hissed, "Baloo, sahib,
baloo!" and began aimlessly running to and fro, apparently hoping to meet
the bear somewhere. It was truly gay for a few minutes, but as nothing
further occurred, and the beaters grew very hoarse with their prodigious
efforts, I hurried on to Walter's post to learn what had happened.

A bear had suddenly come out of the cover some 40 yards off, and stood to
look. The Colonel missed it, whereupon it dashed forward, passing within a
few yards of him, and he missed it again. It departed at top speed across
some open ground behind him, and gained the great woods which stretch away
to the Kaj-nag, and never shall we see that bear again! The Colonel was
much disgusted, and if language--hot, strong, and plenty of it--could
have slain that bear, he would have dropped dead in his tracks.

The beaters brought up a wonderful tale of how another bear, badly wounded
in the leg, had charged through their lines and gone back. They stuck to
their story, and either a second bear actually existed or they are
colossal liars. I incline to the latter theory.

We had wasted all our luck. No more bears came to look at us, and so, la