he
rent roll and tribute of the villages therein comprised, is given to men
whose services have deserved well of their State. Such are known as
jargirdars, and enjoy almost sovereign state in their little domains,
receiving absolutely feudal devotion from their tenantry and dependants.

We pitched our camp in the midst of a magnificent grove of mango-trees,
which at the time of the year were covered with the green fruit. I was
told that before the famine of 1898-99 the grove comprised over two
thousand trees; but at present there are about half that number.

We then received and returned visits with the jargirdar, a Mahratta, and
an exceedingly courteous and dignified man. We asked for and received
permission to shoot in his country, and in addition everything possible
was done for our comfort, supplies of every description being at once
forthcoming. So tenacious were the people of the villages in their
devotion to their chief that not a hand would have been raised to help
us nor a blade of grass given without an order from the head of this
tiny State.

Then we commenced our jungle campaign. The footmarks of a tiger and
tigress, of a very large panther, of bear, sambar, and blue bull
abounded in a wooded valley some six miles from the camp. We tied up
young buffalo-calves, to attract the large Felidae, and ultimately met
with success, for one morning we were having breakfast early when in
trotted one of our Sikhs who had gone before the peep of dawn to look at
the "kills." He reported that one of the calves had been killed at five
that morning; so, putting a hasty conclusion to our breakfast, we called
for horses, saw to our rifles and cartridges, and rode away to the scene
of the early morning tragedy.

Arrived at a village called Sirpali, we left our horses and proceeded on
foot up a lovely wooded valley filled with the bastard teak, the
strong-smelling moha-tree (from which the bears of these parts receive
their chief sustenance), the giant mango, pipal and banyan.

The awesome silence of the dense forest reigned supreme in the noonday
heat. The whispered consultations and the occasional footfall of some
one of the party on a dry teak-leaf seemed to echo for miles and to
break rudely the well-nigh appalling quiet of the jungle. Here and
there, sometimes crossing our path, were the fresh footprints of deer
and of antelope, of pig and the lordly sambar stag that had passed this
way last night to drink at a time wh