; this is the manner in which the spine
of an animal is broken--by a sudden twist, and not by a blow.

The blow from the paw is nevertheless immensely powerful, and at one
stroke will rip open a bullock like a knife; but the after effects of
the wound are still more to be dreaded than the force of the blow.
There is a peculiar poison in the claw which is highly dangerous. This
is caused by the putrid flesh which they are constantly tearing, and
which is apt to cause gangrene by inoculation.

It is a prevalent idea that a leopard will not eat putrid meat, but
that he forsakes a rotten carcase and seeks fresh prey. There is no
doubt that a natural love of slaughter induces him to a constant search
for prey, but it has nothing to do with the daintiness of his appetite.
A leopard will eat any stinking offal that offers, and I once had a
melancholy proof of this.

I was returning from a morning's hunting; it was a bitter day; the rain
was pouring in torrents, the wind was blowing a gale and sweeping the
water in sheets along the earth. The hounds were following at my
horse's heels, with their cars and sterns down, looking very miserable,
and altogether it was a day when man and beast should have been at
home. Presently, upon turning a corner of the road, I saw a Malabar
boy of about sixteen years of age, squatted shivering by the roadside.
His only covering being a scanty cloth round his loins, I told him to
get up and go on or he would be starved with cold. He said something
in reply, which I could not understand, and repeating my first warning,
I rode on. It was only two miles to my house, but upon arrival I could
not help thinking that the boy must be ill, and having watched the gate
for some time to see if he passed by, I determined to send for him.

Accordingly, I started off a couple of men with orders to carry him up
if he were sick.

They returned in little more than an hour, but the poor boy was
dead!--sitting crouched in the same position in which I had seen him.
He must have died of cold and starvation; he was a mere skeleton.

I sent men to the spot, and had him buried by the roadside, and a few
days after I rode down to see where they had laid him.

A quantity of fresh-turned earth lay scattered about, mingled with
fragments of rags. Bones much gnawed lay here and there on the road,
and a putrid skull rolled from a shapeless hole among a confused and
horrible heap. The leopards had scratched him up