ewing. We were collected together on the other side of the
dead tiger and exchanged all kinds of spontaneous civilities and
remarks, not wishing to witness Mr. Ghyrkins' wrath, nor to go away too
suddenly. I heard the conversation, however, for the old gentleman made
no pretence of lowering his voice.

"And do you mean to say you let him go off like that? He must have been
out all night. That beast of a nigger says so. On foot, too. I say on
foot! Do you know what you are talking about? Eh? Shooting tigers on
foot? What? Eh? Might have been killed as easily as not! And then what
would you have said? Eh? What? Upon my soul! You girls from home have no
more hearts than a parcel of old Juggernauts!" Ghyrkins was now furious.
We edged away towards the dining-tent, making a great talk about the
terrible heat of the sun in the morning. I caught the beginning of Miss
Westonhaugh's answer. She had hardly appreciated the situation yet, and
probably thought her uncle was joking, but she spoke very coldly, being
properly annoyed at his talking in such a way.

"You cannot suppose for a moment that I meant him to go," I heard her
say, and something else followed in a lower tone. We then went into the
dining-tent.

"Now look here, Katharine," Mr. Ghyrkins' irate voice rang across the
open space, "if any young woman asked me----" John Westonhaugh had risen
from his chair and apparently interrupted his uncle. Miss Westonhaugh
walked slowly to her tent, while her male relations remained talking. I
thought Isaacs had shown some foresight in not taking part in the
morning discussion. The two men went into their tents together and the
dead tiger lay alone in the grass, the sun rising higher and higher,
pouring down his burning rays on man and beast and green thing. And soon
the shikarries came with a small elephant and dragged the carcass away
to be skinned and cut up. Kildare and the collector said they would go
and shoot some small game for dinner. Isaacs, I supposed, was sleeping,
and I was alone in the dining-tent. I shouted for Kiramat Ali and sent
for books, paper, and pens, and a hookah, resolved to have a quiet
morning to myself, since it was clear we were not going out to-day. I
saw Ghyrkins' servant enter his tent with bottles and ice, and I
suspected the old fellow was going to cool his wrath with a "peg," and
would be asleep most of the morning. John would take a peg too, but he
would not sleep in consequence, being of Bombay