od as a gun, dear lady?"

Leonie smiled at the tardiness of such an important question.

"Fair," she said, refusing an unkempt pot of marmalade as she turned to
Cuxson. "I used to pass most of my holidays with the Wetherbournes,
you know them, don't you? They were awfully keen on sports, and had a
rifle-range, but I could beat them any day with a revolver."

"That doesn't matter, Lady Hickle," said the lad blithely. "All you'll
have to do'll be to bob up and down in the tiger-grass in the approved
style; keep your trigger away from the bush, and so as to feel
thoroughly creepy, your eye out for pugs; which, in case some of you
don't know, means tiger-tracks, not the dog with the beastly curly
tail--and--oh, jolly!--here come the Talbots--just in time for the
_khubber_ which means tiger-news for those whose Hindustani is not as
perfect as mine. Mrs. Talbot, don't pass us by, we have plenty of room
and some superb sausages."

Edna Talbot laughingly sank into a chair next Leonie whom she liked,
and immediately became enthralled in the discussion.

Honest, sweet little woman, with an honest plodding husband in a native
regiment, inhabiting the dreary crumbling fort, without a murmur,
whilst living in hopes of better things to come. Soft-voiced,
considerate towards her native servants who worshipped her, one of the
finest shots in India, and a true upholder of the British Raj in word,
action, and clothes.

A perfect oasis, in fact, among the desert of her sisters, who storm in
season and out at their native staff, before whom they likewise show
themselves in ill-considered neglige, with their unbrushed hair down
their backs, and their bare feet thrust into the evening shoes of last
night's dance.

So it came about without any undue fuss that, after surviving the
excruciating heat of the railway journey, three sahibs, two mem-sahibs,
and their servants steamed out of Kulna in two launches to Tiger's
Point, where awaited them the finest _shikari_ in all Bengal, with an
adequate retinue in which was included a _chukler_ or skin dresser.

And who would notice the look in an ayah's eyes as she wiped her
beloved mem-sahib's ant-ridden bunk with cotton-waste soaked in
kerosene, and who on earth would connect the jungle guide with the
British Museum.

CHAPTER XXX

"A mighty hunter, and his prey was man!"--_Pope_.

It was the second evening and they were nearing the ruined temple.

Walking silently and i