cant as that bear is, my dear, it is a
question whether he is not as dangerous an animal to meddle with as a
man eating tiger."

"What, that wretched little bear, uncle?"

"Yes, that wretched little bear. Any experienced sportsman will tell you
that hunting those little bears is as dangerous a sport as tiger hunting
on foot, to say nothing of tiger hunting from an elephant's back, in
which there is scarcely any danger whatever. I can speak feelingly about
it, for my career was pretty nearly brought to an end by a bear, just
after I entered the army, some thirty years ago, at a spot within a few
miles from here. I have got the scars on my shoulder and arm still."

"Oh, do tell me all about it," Miss Hastings said; and the request being
seconded by the rest of the party, none of whom, with the exception
of Mrs. Hastings, had ever heard the story before--for the colonel was
somewhat chary of relating this special experience--he waited till they
had all drawn up their chairs as close as possible, and then giving two
or three vigorous puffs at his cheroot, began as follows:

"Thirty years ago, in 1855, things were not so settled in the Deccan as
they are now. There was no idea of insurrection on a large scale, but we
were going through one of those outbreaks of Dacoity which have several
times proved so troublesome. Bands of marauders kept the country in
confusion, pouring down on a village, now carrying off three or four
of the Bombay money lenders, who were then, as now, the curse of the
country; sometimes making an onslaught upon a body of traders; and
occasionally venturing to attack small detachments of troops or isolated
parties of police. They were not very formidable, but they were very
troublesome, and most difficult to catch, for the peasantry regarded
them as patriots, and aided and shielded them in every way. The
headquarters of these gangs of Dacoits were the Ghauts. In the thick
bush and deep valleys and gorges there they could always take refuge,
while sometimes the more daring chiefs converted these detached peaks
and masses of rock, numbers of which you can see as you come up the
Ghaut by railway, into almost impregnable fortresses. Many of these
masses of rock rise as sheer up from the hillside as walls of masonry,
and look at a short distance like ruined castles. Some are absolutely
inaccessible; others can only be scaled by experienced climbers;
and, although possible for the natives with their bare fe