while the poor woman was washing her
clothes by the river side, her child — an infant
about a year old — had been seized and
swallowed by a Mugger. Although convinced
that aid was now impossible, we took our
guns and hastened to the spot where the
accident happened ; but all was still there,
not a wavelet disturbed the surface of the
stream. A small speckled kingfisher was
hovering overhead, as if balanced in the air.
with its beak bent down on its breast, watching
the fish beneath ; presently it darted
like an arrow into the water ; returned with
an empty bill, and then went off, with its clear,
sharp, twittering note, as if to console itself
for the failure.

One day I was sitting on the high bank of
the river, taking snap shots with my gun at
the large fish who were every now and then
leaping out of the water. A favourite spaniel
was bringing a fish out of the water that I
had hit. It had swam, already half way
across the stream, when the water about six
yards below her became suddenly disturbed;
and, to my horror, up started the head and
open jaws of an enormous crocodile. The dog
gave a loud shriek, and sprang half out of the
water. The Mugger swam rapidly, and had
got within a yard of his intended victim,
when I raised my gun, and took aim at the
monster's head. A thud, a splash, a bubble,
and a dusky red streak in the water, was all
that ensued. Presently, however, Juno's glossy
black head emerged from the water; and,
to my delight, began to make rapid progress
towards me, and landed safely. The poor brute,
wet and shivering, coiled herself up at my
feet, with her bright hazel eyes fixed on mine
with ineffable satisfaction. Poor Juno
subsequently fell a victim to the Muggers, when
her master was not at hand to succour her.
I mention these facts, to show that the
diabolical revenge with which I afterwards
assisted in visiting these monsters, was not
groundless. But the strongest occasion of it
remains to be told.

Just as the " rains " were beginning, my
neighbour, Mr. Hall, sent me word that he
intended paying me a short visit, and
requested me to send a syce (groom), with a
saddle-horse, to meet him at a certain place
on the road. The syce, Sidhoo, was a smart,
open-chested, sinewy-limbed little fellow, a
perfect model of a biped racer. He could run
—as is the custom in the East — alongside his
horse at a pace of seven or eight miles an
hour, for a length of time that would astonish
the best English pedestrian I ever heard of.

Towards evening, Mr. Hall rode up to the
bungalow, dripping with water, and covered
with mud. I saw at once that some accident
had happened, and hastened to assist him.

As soon as he got inside, he said, in answer
to my bantering about his " spill "—

"I am in no humour for jesting. Your
syce is lost!"

"Drowned ? "

"No; eaten! — by an enormous crocodile!"

He added that, on arriving at a small
nulla about two miles off, he found it so much
swollen by rain, that he had to swim his horse
across it, holding one end of the cord which
Sidhoo, in common with most Hindoos, wore
coiled round his waist, and which was used
in drawing water from the deep wells of the
country. Hall got safely across, and then
commenced pulling Sidhoo over by means of
the cord. The black face, with the white teeth
and turban, were bobbing above the muddy
water, when all at once the groom threw up
his arms, gave a loud shriek, and sank below
the surface. Mr. Hall, who had doubled the
cord round his hand, was dragged into the
water; where he got a momentary glimpse of
the long serrated tail of a Mugger, lashing
the water a short way ahead of him. In his
efforts to save himself, he lost his hold of the
string, and with much difficulty clambered
tip the slippery bank of the nulla. All was
now still. Only Sidhoo's turban was to
be seen floating loosely, a considerable way
down the stream. Hall ran towards it, with
the sort of feeling which makes a drowning
man catch at a straw; and, by means of a
stick he succeeded in fishing it out, and
brought it with him, as the only remnant of
Sidhoo he could give an account of.

Bad news soon, spreads in an Indian village,
and Sidhoo's fate was soon made known to
his wife; and in a short time she came crying
and sobbing to the bungalow, and laid her
youngest child at our friend's feet. The tears
glistened in the poor fellow's eyes as he
tried to sooth and console her; which he did
by promising to provide for her and her
children.

Although Hall was generally running over
with fun, we smoked our cheroots that evening
in silence; except when we proposed
schemes for the annihilation of the crocodiles.
A great many plans were discussed— but none
that offered much chance of success. The next
day, after breakfast, I was showing my visitor
a galvanic blasting apparatus, lately received
from England, for blowing up the snags
(stumps of trees) which obstruct the navigation
of the river. I was explaining its mode
of action to him, when he suddenly interrupted
me with—

"The very thing! Instead of snags, why
not blow up the Muggers ?"

I confessed that there could be no reason
why we should not blast the Muggers. The
difficulty was only how to manage it; yet the
more we talked of it, the more feasible did
the scheme appear.

The brutes keep pretty constant to the
same quarters, when the fish are plentiful;
and we soon ascertained that poor Sidhoo's
murderer was well known in the neighbourhood
of the nulla. He had on several occasions
carried off goats, sheep, pigs, and
children; and had once attempted to drag a
buffalo, whom he had caught drinking, into