finah piece of shooting in my life,' Lord
Southminster drawled out. Then he added aside, in an undertone, 'Makes a
fellow moah determined to annex her than evah!'

I sat in my howdah, half dazed. I hardly heard what they were saying. My
heart danced like the elephant. Then it stood still within me. I was
only aware of a feeling of faintness. Luckily for my reputation as a
mighty sportswoman, however, I just managed to keep up, and did not
actually faint, as I was more than half inclined to do.

Next followed the native paean. The beaters crowded round the fallen
beast in a chorus of congratulation. Many of the villagers also ran out,
with prayers and ejaculations, to swell our triumph. It was all like a
dream. They hustled round me and salaamed to me. A woman had shot him!
Wonderful! A babel of voices resounded in my ears. I was aware that pure
accident had elevated me into a heroine.

'Put the beast on a pad elephant,' the Maharajah called out.

The beaters tied ropes round his body and raised him with difficulty.

The Maharajah's face grew stern. 'Where are the whiskers?' he asked,
fiercely, in his own tongue, which Major Balmossie interpreted for me.

The beaters and the villagers, bowing low and expanding their hands,
made profuse expressions of ignorance and innocence. But the fact was
patent--the grand face had been mangled. While they had crowded in a
dense group round the fallen carcass, somebody had cut off the lips and
whiskers and secreted them.

'They have ruined the skin!' the Maharajah cried out in angry tones. 'I
intended it for the lady. I shall have them all searched, and the man
who has done this thing----'

[Illustration: I SAW HIM NOW THE ORIENTAL DESPOT.]

He broke off, and looked around him. His silence was more terrible by
far than the fiercest threat. I saw him now the Oriental despot. All the
natives drew back, awe-struck.

'The voice of a king is the voice of a great god,' my mahout murmured,
in a solemn whisper. Then nobody else said anything.

'Why do they want the whiskers?' I asked, just to set things straight
again. 'They seem to have been in a precious hurry to take them!'

The Maharajah's brow cleared. He turned to me once more with his
European manner. 'A tiger's body has wonderful power after his death,'
he answered. 'His fangs and his claws are very potent charms. His heart
gives courage. Whoever eats of it will never know fear. His liver
preserves against death and pest