below, roused me by the discharge of his rifle.
My coolie seized me by the arm, and shrieked,
"Sahib, sahib, luckabugga aya!" "Where,
where?" I asked, seizing the double rifle he held
out to me. " There," said he, pointing to a
dark object moving through the trees about
thirty yards off. Bang—- bang—- went both my
barrels, followed immediately by unearthly yells.
We descended from our trees, and found a
large rough yellow pariah dog shot through
both hind legs. He was yelling like a fiend,
and snapping like a crocodile. I borrowed
a large Ghoorkha kookrie from our shikaree,
and, baring my right arm, brought it down with
all my weight on the dog's neck, behind the
head, in the way I had seen Ghoorkhas kill
oxen. The dog was at once out of his pain.

One of my friends was very fat, and, as he
found a branch of a tree rather inconvenient,
had a common native charpoy (sort of
bedstead) fixed up in a fork of a tree. On this
he reclined, with a gun-coolie, and a large
double-barrelled gun loaded with slugs. We
were tired of the goat bait, so he had got a
monkey, thinking that a child-eater might be
more-readily tempted by its flesh. I was
posted in a tree, from which I could watch
the approaches to my friend's post. About
midnight the moon went down, and it was
almost dark. Half an hour later I heard the
monkey begin to chatter, so I cocked both
barrels, and watched the foot of my friend's
tree. The chattering increased. Then came a
blaze of light and a loud report, followed by
breaking of branches, and a perfect Babel of
noise. I had a pine-torch with me, and,
clambering down from my tree, lit it and rushed
to the spot. There, on his face, lay my friend,
screaming out for me. He had upset his bed.
On his back sat the monkey, tearing at his
hair like a wild-cat. A few yards off lay his
coolie, with the charpoy on him smashed in half.
He was roaring out, "The leopard is eating
me." A little further on lay a jackal, writhing
with a dozen, slugs in him. I kicked up the
coolie, and helped my friend by knocking the
monkey over with the broken leg of the charpoy.
After this little upset we lit cheroots and walked
back to our tents, which were pitched about
two miles off.

Ram Bux, our shikaree, had given notice to
all the natives round about that if the leopard
appeared and carried off anything, information
was to be sent to our camp before any pursuit
was made. One evening we were at our tent
doors after dinner, smoking, when we observed,
on the other (Nepâl) side of the river, a
Ghoorkha coming down the hills at great
speed. At the river bank he inflated a sheep-
skin which he carried, and crossed the rapid
stream on it—- just as we see on their wall
carvings that the old Assyrians did—- being
carried down about a quarter of a mile by the
current. On landing he was met by Ram Bux,
who had run out on seeing him approach. They
walked towards us, the Ghoorkha gesticulating
violently, and we heard the following story:

The Ghoorkha lived in a hut about a mile
from our camp, higher up the river, and only a
hundred yards from the water. He had been
out for the day on his duty, which was that of
a government runner, leaving at home his wife,
a baby in arms, and a little girl about six years
old. The wife had gone to the stream for
water, leaving the two children at the hut door.
As she returned she had heard a scream, and,
throwing down her pitcher, ran forward, and
found at the hut door only her baby. The
little girl had disappeared, and, without doubt,
had been carried off by the leopard. The
Ghoorkha found its footmarks on a soft bit of
ground, and hastened to us without attempting
a pursuit in the dense jungle. Ram Bux
decided that it was too late to start that night,
but asked us to be ready one hour before
daylight. In the mean time he sent to the next
village for twenty coolies, who were engaged
as beaters at fourpence a head.

On turning out in the starlight next morning,
I saw that our followers and beaters had
each got some instrument for making noise.
There were tin-kettles, tom-toms, bells, and an
old matchlock or two. I and my two friends
crossed the river on a plank lashed across two
inflated buffalo skins, which kept our guns and
powder high out of water. The beaters came
over in all sorts of ways, some swimming, some
clinging to inflated sheepskins.

When we reached the Ghoorkha's hut, the
whole of our beaters were extended in a line,
I standing in the middle, at the spot where
the Ghoorkha had found traces of the leopard.
The poor Ghoorkha himself, and Ram Bux,
leading a Brinjarry dog in a string, were with
me: each of them carried a spade. At a
given signal the whole line started. The beaters
yelled, whistled, rang bells, and beat tom-toms,
making noise enough to drive away every
leopard within five miles. The dog kept steadily
to the scent; but our progress at times was
very slow through the dense bamboo jungle.

After proceeding about a mile, the dog
became very eager, dashed forward, and was
not easily held in. In fifty more yards we
came to the place where the brute had been
supping. The mangled remains of the little girl
lay about, only half eaten, and the ogre must
have been scared by our noise. Without losing
a moment, the Ghoorkha and Ram Bux set to
work and dug a trench under a tree to leeward
of the child's remains, piling up some
branches between them and the trench. Ram
Bux and I jumped into this trench. The
Ghoorkha departed with the dog in the direction
taken by the rest of our party; who kept up
the same discordant din as they moved away.

Ram Bux now told me that the leopard—-
doubtless listening a mile off—- would think,
from the passing away of the noise, that the
whole party had gone on, and would be sure
to return in an hour or two to go on with his
interrupted feast. We must be quiet, for the
brute was very cunning, and the slightest sound
or smell would send him off and destroy our