after the mela, some villagers from Kareli--a
village close to us--came to me asking me to shoot a tiger that had
killed a fine plough-ox, and was causing great havoc.

On arriving at the spot where the kill was, an examination of the marks
on the bullock showed that it was a panther and not a tiger that had
been at work. The place was in sight of the village and on the skirt of
a forest. We had a "machan" (platform) in a tree made, and at three
o'clock in the afternoon I climbed up with my native shikari or hunter
and watched and waited until dark.

About 8 p.m. it was pitch dark, and the animal could be heard munching
beneath. I fired at a black object twice with no result, for we still
heard the beast going on with his dinner. I found later I had fired at a
bush, mistaking it for a panther in the darkness. The animal was either
too hungry to notice the shot, or had mistaken the sound for thunder.
Later on the moon rose, and at half-past three in the morning a third
shot took effect, for the animal went off badly wounded. Some time
before that a heavy thunderstorm had come on, but, sheltered beneath our
rugs, we did not get really wet. We now slept, feeling our work was
done. At sunrise the native hunter and I got down and examined the spot.

While we were looking at the blood-marks a tremendous roar was heard
close by, and my native shikari calling out, "Tiger! tiger! tiger!"
bolted and ran off to the village as fast as his heels could carry him.
I climbed back into the machan, to watch the development of events.
After some time about sixteen villagers came out to help, and we slowly
followed up the blood-trail.

After piercing the thick jungle for about two hundred yards, at times
having to creep under the brushwood, we came to a narrow nala, or
shallow watercourse with sandy bed, and we found out the cause of the
constant growling we had heard. A tiger also was tracking the panther,
who every now and then stood at bay and attacked it. After some time the
tiger, no doubt hearing us, turned aside. Suddenly I saw the wounded
animal scaling a tall and almost branchless tree, which appeared as
though it must have been at some time struck by lightning. The panther,
no doubt, hoped to escape all its enemies in that way. It went to the
tip-top, about forty feet or fifty feet from the ground.

I fired, but the range was too long for my shot and ball gun. The firing
frightened the panther, which fell in descending when