ently something hops up on the foot of the charpoy on which my
recumbent form is stretched; and still continues the pattering of feet on
the floor. It is pitchy dark within the bungalow, and, uncertain of the
nature of my strange visitant, I kick and "qu-e-e-k" at him and scare him
off; but, evidently terrorized by the appearance of the panther, the next
minute he again invades my couch.

To have one's room turned nolens volens into a place of refuge for timid
animals, hiding from a prowling panther which is not unlikely to follow
them inside, is anything but a desirable experience in the dark. Should
his panthership come nosing inside the bungalow, in his eagerness to
secure something for supper he might not pause to discriminate between
brute and human; and as his awe-inspiring voice is heard again,
apparently quite near by, I deem it expedient to warn him off. So
reaching my Smith & Wesson from under the pillow, I fire a shot up into
the thatched roof. The little intruders, whatever they may be, scamper
out of the bungalow, nor wait upon the order of their going, and a loud
scream some distance away a moment later tells of the panther's rapid
retreat into the depths of the jungle.

Soon a courageous bull-frog gives utterance to a subdued, hesitative
croak; his excellent example is quickly followed by others; answering
noises spring up in every direction, and ere long the midnight concert of
the jungle is again in full melody.

A comparatively cooling breeze blows across flooded jungle and rice-field
in the morning. The country around resembles a shallow lake from out of
which the rank vegetation of the jungle rears its multiform foliage; much
of the water is merely the temporary overflow of the Markunda, silently
moving through the shady forest, but over the more permanently submerged
areas is gathered a thick green scum. Not unlike a broad expanse of level
meadow-land do some of these open spaces seem, and the yellow, fallen
blossoms of the gum arabic trees, scattered thickly about, are the
buttercups spangling and beautifying the meadows.

Forty-eight miles from Umballa the Grand Trunk road leads through the
civil lines and past the towering walls of ancient Kurnaul. Formerly on
the banks of the river Jumna, Kurnaul is now removed several miles from
that stream, owing to the wayward trick of Indian rivers carving out for
themselves new channels during seasons of extraordinary flood. The city
is old beyond the re