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CALL OF THE TIGER

CALL OF THE TIGER

by

COL.

A. N.

W. POWELL

London

ROBERT HALE LIMITED

63 Old Brompton Road, S.W.7

First published iQtf

CONTENTS
Foreword

PART

FIRST ADVENTURES
I

WHEN

WAS A GREENHORN

17

A MONTH'S LEAVE

>

28

III

DARBARI AND SAKTU

42

IV

A VERY DANGEROUS RIFLE

57

THE SIWALIKS

72

ii

PART

II

MORE ADVENTURES
VI
VII
VIII

IX

X
XI

NEW

IDEAS

WAITING AND WATCHING

94

TIGER NOISES

107

CALLING UP

121

MOTICHUR

134

TALAMALAI

147

PART,
XII

....

85

III

THE GREAT INDIAN WILD BUFFALO

....

165

XIII

HIMALAYAN HOTCHPOTCH

XIV

FOLLOWING UP

189

XV THIRTY QUESTIONS

202

177

FOREWORD
THIS

is

a book of shikar

stories,

mainly about

tigers

and

panthers, but also about some of the other big game animals to
be found in the jungles of India to-day. The stories range over

a wide

field,

extending from the Himalayas in the North to the

Nilgiris in the far South of India, and should be of interest to

sportsmen and others who inhabit the country between these

two magnificent mountain ranges.

interest

my contemporaries,

will also, I

know,
and loved this
over the globe, or are members

They

who served

in India

land, but are now scattered all

of the Chair-borne Division, now permanently stationed in
Great Britain, To them, as well as to many others, the names

of the places and the jungles they knew will recall many happy
memories.
The first part of the book contains accounts of my own first
adventures, full of instances of glaring mistakes. Most of the
stories are told against myself.

enthusiastic novices will profit

from

my

failures.

The

I can only hope that some

from the lesson to be learnt

stories that follow describe further

adventures that gradually led to my discovering more and more

about the animals and jungles that I loved, and finally culminated in my mastering the art of calling up a tiger. This is
something about which not much is generally known, and the
stories, therefore,

should be of special interest. Also,

hope that

the grouping together of stories under appropriate headings will

prove to be of value to novices, who wish to study tigers and the
various ways in which they can be hunted. And finally, the
is rounded off with a chapter of "Thirty Questions",

book

many of which will be recognized immediately by old hands as

the old "Chestnuts" over which controversy raged in the Clubs
and Messes of bygone days, not to mention the Press, and the
shikar books of those good times. The answers given are my own
carefully considered views, which I feel sure are far from being
unassailable, and which, I hope, will start the ball rolling again.
After all, we old dogs do like a good bone to chew on, and here
is

a bone of no ordinary size

I do not profess to be an expert.
!

The

stories

have been

FOREWORD

selected from my experiences to show that big game shooting

can be a grand sport particularly when it is confined to tackling
animals that are to be reckoned with, and are fully equipped
for retaliation and revenge. Sportsmen who have indulged in
this sport do not need to be told about this. It is not for them

am

in
writing now, but for the many young fellows
and
India and all over the world, who are longing to see a tiger,
are hoping some day to shoot one.

that I

I would hesitate to lay down the law about what methods

should or should not be adopted by any particular hunter, as
every sportsman is entitled to make this decision for himself. I
would, however, say that tiger shooting can be just what the
individual sportsman wishes it to be. It is something that is
limited only by the size of the sportsman's purse, and also by
the size of his heart. Subject to these two conditions, it can be
difficult or easy, dangerous or safe, brave or even cowardly.
Every novice will eventually, in his own heart of hearts, decide
on his own limitations, and will fix his own limit to the risks he
is

prepared to take.

It is an established fact that anything which comes to one

too easily is never fully appreciated. This certainly applies to
the shooting of a tiger. The ones I have appreciated most are
those that have led me a dance, or have, in some way or other,
The actual shooting of a tiger
nearly frightened me to death
a
sometimes
be
may
comparatively unthrilling and even a
the
chase. It is the associations with the
to
regrettable ending
animal that either make or mar its memory. There is nothing
very thrilling about shooting a tiger with a powerful rifle from
the safety of a tree, though I must admit that even now, while
sitting up over a kill, my pulse quickens and my heart thumps
when I hear the tiger approaching, or catch the first glimpse
of this magnificent animal coming towards his kill. Yes, one
must admit there is that momentary thrill, but unless there has
been more to it than just that, then there is not much to be
proud of in the trophy, even if it happens to be the largest tiger
in Asia. It is the trouble, one has taken, the energy expended,
the jungle-craft employed, and the risks that make a tiger skin
a treasured trophy. The actual shooting of the animal does not
matter a hoot. If he escapes, so much the better, so long as he
!

leaves an unfading memory which can be cherished to the end

of one's days. One does not need the skin or mounted head to

FOREWORD

remind one of the incident. Even a photograph would serve as

a poor reminder. It is the coloured moving picture left behind
in the mind's eye that counts. Even the loss of one's eyesight
cannot remove that picture. It lives on for ever.
could

How

anyone possibly wish for anything better?

Many years ago when I was shooting in the Ghacheri Block
of the Balaghat District of the old Central Provinces, my
shikaris, Darbari and Saktu, pointed out the place where a
young officer had sat alone on the ground, all through the night,
and had at dawn shot two tigers as they came together to the
kill a few yards away.
I do not know who it was, but was
what
the shikaris told me, and as they
greatly impressed by
told the story only because we chanced to be passing the actual
spot I have no doubt it was true. The young hunter's hide-out
had been made at the foot of a tree, and he had sat there,
screened only by a few leafy branches, in the depths of a very
dense forest. The ground was level, so he had no advantage of
position. When I asked why he had chosen to sit on the ground
instead of in the tree, which incidentally was a good tree for a
machan, the shikaris simply said he had preferred to do it that
way. This was undoubtedly a very foolhardy thing to do, but
I could not help admiring him. Here I must explain that in
Africa sitting on the ground in a thorn "Boma" for a lion is not
considered anything out of the ordinary, but I can assure anyone who raises his eyebrows over this story that sitting on the
ground for a tiger in dense jungle is quite a different cup of tea.
And now, for the sake of contrast, here is another story.
Before I had ever shot a tiger myself, I was standing at the bar
of a club talking to an elderly gentleman, who had shot over a
hundred, and was therefore a terrific hero in my young eyes.
He told me how, while stalking a herd of chital, he had come
across a tiger stalking the same herd. The tiger was facing
obliquely away from him, and was so intent on watching the
as it was a large male
deer, that it had not seen him,
he
did not fire at it.
and
only
twenty
tiger
yards away,

BUT

My

hero's stocks

fell

abruptly

up over a kill is probably the most usual method

It has one great
by
adopted
sportsmen to shoot a tiger.
advantage it is far cheaper than having a beat, and is within
the means of nearly every person possessing a gun. Amongst
Sitting

hunters

who can

afford either, opinion

is

very divided.

Some

FOREWORD

10

fun of working out a beat beforehand, and later enjoy

of hearing the shouting men and seeing the tiger
coming through the jungle in broad daylight. Others prefer
sitting quietly in a machan, enjoying the peace and tranquillity
of the undisturbed jungle, waiting patiently for the tiger to
return to his kill. One always hopes, of course, that he will
return in daylight. If he does so, the watcher is fully rewarded,
like the

the

thrill

coming on to his kill is an incomparable sight. The

hours of waiting, the cramp in one's legs, the tormenting
mosquitoes, all are forgotten in that triumphal moment, when
the King of the Jungle appears before the sportsman's eyes.
His heart thumps and he becomes almost breathless with
excitement. This is no exaggeration. The presence of a tiger
only a few yards away does make the heart beat high. Even
though I have seen so many, it still has that effect on me. Then
again, if the tiger fails to appear, the jungle noises of animals
and birds, and sometimes an unexpected visitor to the kill, the
shimmer of the moonlight, and sometimes the roar of a tiger
near at hand all delight the heart of the naturalist and true
for a tiger

lover of the jungle. Sitting up may lack the lively action and
thrilling noise of a beat, but I would venture to say that a
sportsman who sits up all through the night in the heart of an

Indian jungle learns more in one night about the animals of

the jungle and their different calls than he would if he visited it
a dozen times by day. It is at night that the jungle is awake and
its

denizens are on the move. In the day they

from

lie

up, and con-

most dreaded enemy "Man", but

at night the jungle belongs to them, and they move about at
will* Anyone who knows the jungles only by day knows them
but little, as much perhaps as the gentleman who goes sightceal themselves

Paris, and stays at home at night !

tiger at night is difficult, unless it happens to

by day in

seeing

To

their

see

be a

bright moonlight night, and then too it is only possible if the

tiger comes out into a moonlit patch, where he is not hidden in
the dairk shadow of the trees. The reddish brown shades of

and barking deer, vanish at dusk from human

that hour all that remains visible to the human eye

tigers, chital

vision.

At

the white chest and ruff of the tiger, the white throat of the
and the white hindquarters of the barking deer, while the
rest just disappears. If a herd of chital crosses in front of one at
dusk9 their white throat patches look like the white caps of

is

chital,

FOREWORD

II

men passing through the darkness. When the moon

colours again become slightly visible, but the object stands
out in relief or disappears, and, in fact seems to change colour

invisible
rises

with every change of background. Against a dark background

a tiger looks greyish yellow, and against a light background he
looks almost black. When one sees a tiger in daylight against
a green background, one is struck at once by the vivid contrast,
and one wonders why people talk so much hot air about
Nature's wonderful scheme of animal coloration as a means
of protective camouflage, but see a tiger in shadow, even in
daylight, or see him at dusk or in moonlight, and your opinion
will immediately be reversed.
After all, a tiger is really a
nocturnal animal. He lies hidden in dense jungle by day, but
emerges at night in quest of his prey, and it is then that his
tawny coat serves him really well. His stripes break up the
outline of his massive body, and the crazy markings on his face
cause a kind of blur, which even at a short distance leave one
wondering whether it is a tiger or whether one is just seeing
things

The

majority of old sportsmen in India advocate "Beating"

method of shooting tigers. It certainly has many
advantages. It does away with the irksome and sometimes very
tiring business of sitting still for hours in a machan, waiting for
a tiger to return to his kill, which is something he quite often
fails to do. Beating may also be a more certain way of bagging
a tiger. Sportsmen who have kept a careful register of these
things say the proportion of disappointments in beating is
considerably less than in sitting up over kills. Furthermore,
beating requires a more thorough knowledge of jungle-craft.
For the sportsman who takes an interest in tiger-tactics, it
as the best

provides problems which have to be very carefully considered,

and which produce a feeling of intense satisfaction when they
work out to a successful end. It is a fascinating game in which
the sportsman pits his wits against the wits of a very cunning
quarry, and it is natural he should feel delighted if he wins.
Against all this it must be remembered that times have
changed. In the good old days beaters were dirt cheap, and
it was the usual practice to employ a hundred or more men to

do a

beat.

They were paid only a few annas

apiece,

and were

delighted with an extra two annas if the sportsman succeeded

in bagging the tiger. Men used to come long distances to take

FOREWORD

12

part in such a grand tamasha. To-day it is very different.

Except in a few favourable localities, beaters expect to be
handsomely paid, and a beat might cost anything from one to
three hundred Rupees. Very few sportsmen can afford to do
a big tiger beat now, and fewer still could pay for beats every

time there
to find

but

is

kill.

Besides,

it is

now sometimes

enough men. This may not be

very difficult

so in all parts of India,

is so in many parts of the country.

a sportsman, sooner or later, fixes his own limit to
the risks he is prepared to take. Before coming in contact with
the realities of tiger shooting a novice may have a complete
misconception of what these risks really are, and he may be

it

certainly

I saicf that

on the wings of a delusion, hoping to

as
back
with
him
a
bring
tiger skin that would brand him
A
friends.
his
of
a
and
to
serve
hero,
something
impress
wounded tiger is one of the most dangerous animals in the
carried into the jungle

world, and, before allowing any novice to proceed blindfolded

into an awkward commitment, which, instead of making him a

him for life as a coward, or might even

him
for
an
qualify
obituary notice in the daily papers, I would
warn him that even experienced hunters sometimes fail to kill
a tiger outright, and it is therefore even more possible for a
novice to wound instead of kill a tiger. Every sportsman who
wounds a tiger is in honour bound to follow him up to try and
hero, might brand

kill him, simply because, if he survives, the tiger becomes a

man-eater or man-killer, or otherwise becomes a danger to all

men and

cattle entering the jungle. It is hoped that some of

the stories in this book will throw more light on this very

important subject.
The name chosen for

this

book

reflects its

theme.

When

tiger calls, putting full gusto into the expression of his feelings,
the jungles echo and re-echo to the sound, which is, without

question, the most dreaded and awe-inspiring noise to be

heard in the jungle. Most animals and men put as much distance between themselves and this sound as they can, and as
quickly as they can. Very few sportsmen have ventured to
answer the call to try and attract the tiger to come towards
them, and fewer still have succeeded in doing so, even if they
have tried. I was absolutely thrilled when I succeeded in
doing it for the first time, though I must admit that it took me
d very long time and many failures before I had my first

FOREWORD
success.

however, something which should not be tried

has not had considerable previous experience
Calling up a tiger in the jungle is a very dangerous

It

is,

by anyone who
of

tigers.

game.

13

DEDICATION
is dedicated to the memory of three Indian
Darbari, Saktu and Abhu, without whose help and

This book
shikaris

friendship

my

earlier efforts

would

surely have been in vain.

PART

FIRST ADVENTURES

CHAPTER

WHEN

WAS A GREENHORN

IN TELLING the stories of my first adventures I shudder to

think what damage I may do to my reputation.
First of all let me take you to Mettupalaiyam, at the foot of
the beautiful Nilgiris, where, in those days, wild elephants used
to come down from the forests at night and raid the plantations
to within a mile or two of the town. I had a few days Christmas
leave, and was accompanied by my Madrassi bearer Baloo,
who spoke four languages, and acted as my interpreter, gunand general factotum. At Mettupalaiyam I
a
local
shikari, and two coolie assistants. I was armed
engaged
with a double barrelled, under-lever, -450 hammer black
powder Express rifle, lent me by a friend.
I had no means of conveyance except Shanks's Mare. The
five of us set out bravely one morning, long before dawn, and,
to the accompaniment of much trumpeting by the wild elebearer,

cook,

phants returning "home" after raiding the plantations, we

marched about seven miles down a lonely cart-track leading
through a dark jungle. As the sun rose we found ourselves not
far

from the Moyar River.

am no good at describing scenery,

my memory. To my left

but the beauty of that scene lingers in

up to the foot of the mountains, which rose

and looked magnificent clothed in their
heavenwards,
abruptly
dense forests of magnificent trees, and topped at their summits
by rocky cliffs, enshrouded here and there by the winter mists
and lit up by the first rays of the morning sun. In front of me
lay a densely wooded undulating forest, with another range of
magnificent hills beyond. High up in those hills a sambur stag
grassy slopes led

was "belling", and his voice carried for miles through the stillness of the morn. Standing as I was then on the very threshold
of my shikar career, I had good reason to feel spellbound by
the grandeur of

my

surroundings.
entered the deep dark jungle ahead. The
shikari told us that we might meet bison, as the place was
noted for them, and that we might meet a tiger. Young and

In silence

we

17

l8

CALL OF THE TIGER

rifle
gullible as I was then, I believed him, and gripped
tightly as we crept along the game trails, narrow alley-ways

my

trampled down by elephants, through the dense tangle of tree

trunks, lentana bushes, giant ferns, tall grass, thorny bushes and
entwining creepers, which hemmed us in and made us feel like
tiny little midgets. I prayed fervently that we might not meet
an elephant, or worse elephants! Escape would have been
impossible. Besides, I had been warned that shooting at an
elephant was strictly forbidden, and, if I wished to retain my
game licence to shoot at an elephant would be the quickest way
to lose it. In the light of experience I realize now that looking
for a bison or tiger in that way was about equivalent to looking
for a needle in a haystack, but the hours we spent toiling through
that dense jungle felt very much like the real thing to me then.
However, when at last, after about three hours, graceful

bamboo clumps began

taking the place of those horrible

creepers and thorn bushes, and the pleasant sound of the

rippling waters of the Moyar River seemed to be welcoming
our approach, it was with a feeling of relief that I handed my
heavy rifle to my servant Baloo. I had carried it for several
hours, all for nothing, and I was feeling tired.
We now headed for the river, but, hardly had we gone fifty
yards, when a magnificent bull elephant, with enormous tusks,
suddenly appeared from behind a bamboo clump in front of
us. The shikari, who was leading, whipped round like a polo
pony, and gasping the one dreaded word "A-nay !" (elephant)
nearly knocked me over in his desperate rush to escape. I
turned for my rifle, but all I could see of Baloo was the back of
his green and black striped coat, (which I remember to this

moving at full speed in the direction of a monster tree. In

1
%ste he tripped and fell, and I hurriedly regained
I was now alone, with the monster
possession of my rifle.
elephant, standing looking at me not more than thirty yards
away. I knelt down and took aim at the centre of his forehead,
ready to fire in case he decided to charge. Very slowly he
turned and silently walked away, disappearing into the jungle
as suddenly and silently as he had appeared.
That big elephant was the first big game animal I ever saw in
the Indian jungle. It was with real sorrow that I heard the
news next day that he had been shot by a hunter, who had
been on his trail for some days. Apparently he had been doing

day),

his blinr

WHEN
considerable

WAS A GREENHORN

damage

declared a rogue, but to

to

life

ig

and property and had been

me he will always remain the kindly old

who gave me

a very big thrill and could have killed

gentleman,
did
to
do
but
not
so. Had that five tons of elephantine
me,
try
borne
down
might
upon me like an Army Tank, a soft lead
bullet from a -450 black powder rifle could not have saved

me.

day or two later I had my next adventure. I had been

joined by two of my friends from Wellington, who had suddenly
decided to spend a day in the jungles with me. Our combined
purses made it possible to engage about forty beaters, and we
found ourselves at the first crossing of the Ootacamund road
over the mountain railway, in the midst of the most graceful
Palm tree groves I had ever seen in my life. From there we
moved to the dense jungles at the foot of the hills.

While the beaters were moving into position, machans

(platforms in trees) were hastily put up at vantage points for
my friends, but I can well remember that the first shouts of the
beaters fell upon our ears before anything could be done about
a machan for myself. Realizing that the beat had begun, I
hastily scrambled up a steep little ravine, followed by Baloo.
There we settled ourselves into a convenient little niche in the
bank, by the side of a pathway leading across the ravine. The
ravine itself was hardly ten yards wide, and the jungle in front
of us was so dense that it looked dark, and it was impossible to
see into the undergrowth ahead. There was, however, no time

now to
The

start looking for a better position.

beat was in full swing, and the shrill shrieks of the
beaters were growing louder and louder as they drew steadily
I know of no other part of India in which beaters
nearer.
their
voices quite so high. Their high-pitched screams
pitch
are terrifyingly fiendish, and are most effective in the

jungle.

The beaters had approached to within fifty yards of the guns,

when both Baloo and I thought we heard something on the
move up the hill to our right. We both turned in that direction,
expecting to see some animal cross the ravine. Hardly had we
done so when out of the corner of my left eye I saw someNext moment I realized that a large; male
thing move.
leopard was coming across the ravine straight towards us. He
was moving at a brisk walk, but was so bewildered by the

CALL OF THE TIGER

20

had not seen us. His ears were

far
as
back
as
they would go. He slipped past
pressed right
within a yard of my quivering servant, before I could swing
round to fire at him. I practically jumped over Baloo to try
and get in a shot, but he disappeared like a flash into the dense
shrieking of the beaters that he

jungle beyond.
When the beat was over, and the beaters were stepping into
the ravine, I called out to my companions to tell them what
had happened. While I was doing so, the beaters suddenly
raised another shriek, and to our amazement another leopard,
smaller than the first, darted across the ravine, through our

very midst.

The beaters now begged us to run down the hill to the Forest
Line as quickly as we could, and then go ahead to a ravine
about a mile further on. By doing this they said we could
intercept the leopards, and they would then drive them on to
us again. We lost no time in carrying out this plan.
When the second beat began, the shrill shrieks of the beaters
were drowned by the most resounding roars I had ever heard
in my life. The jungles vibrated and the echoes shook the hills.
Baloo and I were sitting on the ground, crouched up against
the side of a ravine. With his eyes popping out of his head he
"Sah" (Sir), this place no good to sit. Tiger eat up." As
same thought had already occurred to me, we lost no time
As we did so, a
in scrambling up to the top of a huge rock
The
across
the
ravine.
bounded
however,
roaring,
leopard
continued, and the tiger now seemed to be moving in the
said

the

direction of

my

friends.

When

the beat was over the cause of the roaring was exbig bull elephant had got caught up in the beat.
plained.
Instead ui going forward, he had rushed towards the beaters,

I had heard elephants trumpeting, but never one

roaring.
roaring like this one. Apparently it is a roar of rage, not unlike
the roar of a tiger or lion. Anyway, he had treed the beaters
who had had an exciting time yelling at him while he rushed

to and fro, roaring and knocking down trees. Eventually he

had turned and, still roaring, had thundered past my
friends.

As

my friends had to get back to Wellington, we now had to

a day. When I got back to camp, news had filtered

call it

through that the

men

keeping watch over the carcass of the

WHEN

WAS A GREENHORN

21

dead rogue elephant had been treed by several cow elephants,

who had found their fallen lord, and, after making a terrible
fuss over him, had tried to pull him up with their trunks and
put him on his feet again. They were said to be near him still.
This pathetic story filled me with the desire to see them with
my own eyes, but as it was too late to go out that day, the trip
had to be put off till the morrow. I had hurt my foot and did
not
to

feel like

walking about twenty miles, so entrusted the guide

for some form of con-

make what arrangements he could

veyance.
guide hired a "Jhatka", a springless cart drawn by a
pony. The word "Jhatka" in Hindustani means a jolt, and if
you have ever ridden in one of these carts, over a rough road,
you will not stop to argue about its meaning. You will, I guess,
regard it as something of an understatement of fact I wanted
to start at dawn, but the owner of the cart absolutely refused to
start before nine o'clock. The elephants, he said, would kill

My

and smash his cart to smithereens

About four of us piled into the cart. It had no seats, but just
a boarded floor, with a semicircular hood made of bamboos,
low enough to make anyone of my build crouch to save his
his horse,

head. I found myself being abominably bumped at both ends

But how the little pony dragged us up hill and down dale over
that very rough road was a real eye-opener to me. Needless
to say there were occasions when we all had to get out and push,
but, taking it all by and large, the little pony did wonderfully
We got out when we reached the Moyar River, and
well.
leaving the horse and cart with their owner in a clearing where
there was plenty of green grass and the pony could be allowed
to graze, we entered the jungle by a small pathway, which the
guide said would lead us to the dead elephant.
After walking for about a couple of hours, it became quite
obvious that the guide had lost his way. When I questioned
him, he persuaded me to sit down with Baloo in a cool spot,
while he and the two other men went off scouting to try and
find the elephant. They were away about three hours, and
returned only to say they had failed in their mission. I had a
strong suspicion that the rascals had spent those three hours
Either fear' or
just round the corner, snoozing under a tree
!

some

local superstition

visiting the

seemed

dead elephant.-

to be holding

them back from

GALL OF THE TIGER

22

We now

forded the river, and made for the little village of

with
the object of picking up a guide. On arrival there,
Ganda,
I was astonished at what I saw.
The village huts were all
situated at one end of a big clearing with neatly banked up
paddy fields, but the dwellings were for use in the daytime
only. Each family had a nest in a big stout tree, consisting of a
rough platform of branches, for use as a bedroom at night.
These were about thirty feet up and I was amazed at the way the
women and children climbed up to them. There were no
ladders. One woman I saw went up her tree with a child on
her back and another one on her hip. The small platforms had
no railings or other device to prevent children from rolling off
at night, but none of them ever seemed to do so anyway.
Children from about the age of four climbed up by themselves.
They did not scramble up by scaling the trunk, but by their
hands and feet. The women were very scantily clad and the
children had nothing on at all, but, even so, it was an astounding feat for human beings. I asked why the platforms were so
high up, and was told they had to be so, to be out of reach of
wild elephants. As elephants cannot jump, the platforms could
easily have been a good deal lower, but these people were
taking no chances and perhaps were thinking too of man-

and leopards.
There was a good deal of discussion over finding a guide,
and, to my mind, a good deal of unnecessary delay, but,
eating tigers

apparently a tiger had killed a young elephant calf. Its mother,

in revengeful mood, was rampaging about the forest between
the village and the dead rogue. There was the risk of meeting

and apparently no one was at all keen on doing so. The

was
already well advanced, and, in desperation, I offered
day
a temptir ^ reward, which finally did the trick.
As we left the village to enter the jungle, I was amazed at
the hundreds of fresh elephant tracks, less than a hundred
yards from the huts, and I began to realize and understand the
As we entered the
full meaning of those platforms in trees.
to go there.
I
wanted
no
one
It
also
realized
jungle
why
was terribly dense, wedged in between a hill and the river.
her,

Our

little

pathway led through almost impenetrable under-

growth.

We had gone only about half a mile, when a terrific roar

ahead of us brought us to an immediate standstill. This time

WHEN

WAS A GREENHORN

23

was the roar of an angry elephant. We hurriedly got

off the path, and scrambled through the terrible undergrowth
towards the hill, to take refuge there behind a fallen tree-trunk.
The mother elephant was giving full vent to her feelings, and
kept us tied to the spot for about an hour. Then, just as we
had decided to try and make good our escape, she also decided
to go in the same direction and went past us roaring, but, fortunately, without discovering us. As the roars grew fainter in
the distance, Baloo's face lit up in a grin. "Sah," he said,
"elephant going to cart !" And so she was. When we got back
to our conveyance, the driver and his pony were still trembling
from head to foot. She had passed within a hundred yards of
them, roaring furiously as she went by. The sun was setting,
and the driver beseeched us to make haste, before further
I

knew

it

disaster should overtake us.

now

explained what our guides were saying. The

elephant, they said, had been keeping guard over her dead
calf, and had started roaring to scare away the tiger, who had
returned for a meal. She had obviously succeeded in driving
him away, and was now in full pursuit. We could still hear her
roaring in the distance.
We scrambled into our cart, and very soon were jolting our

Baloo

way homewards. The sun had set, and we had done only about
a mile when darkness overtook us. There was no moon, and

We were passing the spot where

I
a
few
earlier
had stood spellbound, admiring
only
mornings
the grandeur of the scenery, when, suddenly, our little pony
stopped with a jerk, and refused to move another inch. The
driver said he had seen a tiger in the road ahead of us. I got
out of the cart and went on tip-toe down the road. My electric
torch was a bit run down, and when I turned the dull light on
to the bushes at the roadside, I was greeted with a deep growl.
The undergrowth was so thick that I could see nothing, but
the growl was repeated, and immediately a sambur belled
about fifty yards away. Then the alarm chorus was taken up by
a whole herd of elephants, who started their shrill trumpeting
about a quarter of a mile away. My men started beseeching
me to return to the cart, and I must admit I did not hesitate
the cart boasted of no lights.

to take this very good advice.

Then, although feverishly
exhorted to do so, our pony refused to budge. Eventually,
however, when he did start, he went off at a gallop, and I

CALL OF THE TIGER

24

reckon we did a mile in record Derby time before the little steed
paused again for want of breath.
Thus ended this hunting expedition a comedy of errors and
much ado about nothing
!

few months later I found myself on my way to attend a

Musketry Course at Pachmarhi, that pretty little hill station,
situated

on a plateau, in the heart of the Central Provinces,

now known as Madhya Pradesh.

The course was a strenuous one, but our evenings were usually
free, I often used to wander off on my own, to sit on a knoll at
the edge of the plateau, overlooking the jungles in the deep
valleys below.
Near my favourite knoll, and overlooking the same scene,
was a granite monument, with an inscription which I cannot
"
fully remember, but which, I think, was We'll weary nae mair
for the land o' the leal", erected by a Scottish Regiment in
memory of soldiers who would never see Scotland again. The

spot for the monument had been well chosen. There was a sheer
drop of about a thousand feet to the valley below, and it commanded a magnificent view of densely wooded hills and

which seemed steeped in the peace and tranquillity of a

sleep, undisturbed anywhere by human habitation,
and ruled by the hand of Nature alone. I never tired of gazing
at that peaceful scene, and can still see it quite distinctly in my
mind's eye. It was beautiful.
At lunch time one Saturday, my personal servant Baloo
greeted me excitedly with the news that a leopard had killed
a goat, near the granite monument. I interviewed the owner,
who confirmed that his goat had been killed, and explained
how it had happened. Apparently, he had sent it out with
other village goats to graze on the hillsides, as was the local
custom. The small boy in charge had returned at top speed
to say a leopard had suddenly attacked the goats and killed
valleys,

wonderful

four of them.

Fortunately
set off

it

I swallowed my lunch, and

followed by Baloo, the bereaved

was a half holiday,

immediately
owner, and a coolie carrying a charpoy (small string bed),
which I hoped to tie in a tree as a machan. On arrival at the
spot, I was shown where the killings had taken place, but,
although there were definite signs of a scuffle with blood here
after,

WHEN

WAS A GREENHORN

25

and there, there was no trace of a dead goat anywhere. We then

sent a man to fetch the boy who had been in charge. When he
arrived he said three dead goats had been removed by their
owners, but one had been dragged by the leopard into a cave,
behind a large rock, about 100 yards away.
Leading up to the rock was a deep narrow ravine, which
seemed to provide our best means of approach. Very cautiously
Baloo and I crept up the ravine until we reached what turned
out to be a narrow crevice in the rock itself. This was about a
yard wide, with sides about ten feet high. Standing outside we
could see nothing, for a projection of rock on the inside interfered with our view, and I remember it took me about a
minute or more to muster enough courage to enter the crevice
itself. However, having at last gained mastery over my feelings,
I advanced slowly, with my rifle at the ready. Peeping round
the projecting rock, I discovered the partly eaten remains of
the unfortunate goat. I also discovered that the crevice ended
there and had no other exit.
My first reaction to the situation was to pull the remains into
the ravine, but, on second thoughts, I decided this might make
the leopard suspicious when returning to his kill, so I left the
goat where it was. Then after studying the ground very carefully, I came to the conclusion that the leopard would return
either up the ravine itself, or walk along a narrow ledge on the

no approach

by any other
a
was
find
suitable
to
difficulty, however,
place
for me to hide in. There were no trees near enough to tie up a
machan, and the sides of the ravine were quite bare. Finally,
I decided to sit on the steep side of the ravine, opposite the
ledge, with the small bed slung into position with a rope, to
act as a screen in front of me.
When this screen had been well camouflaged, with leafy
far side, there being

to the crevice

way. The main

branches stuck through the stringing of the bed, it looked

exactly like a bush, and, with a few branches tucked in at the
sides and behind, it made an excellent hide-out. Anyway, when
Baloo and the others had tucked me in and departed, I must
admit I began to feel a trifle nervous. I noticed then for the
first time that whichever way the leopard came, he would
have to pass within five yards or less of me, and, after all, even
if he did not see me, he might mistake my hide-out for a bush,
and rush there to take cover if I wounded him, or even spring

CALL OF THE TIGER

26

when hit and fall right on top of me Such thoughts

were disconcerting, and as time wore slowly on my feelings did
not improve. To add to my discomfiture, I was most persistently
attacked by gnats and other biting insects, and the treecroakers were making a most unholy ear-piercing din that
nearly drove me bats. I was relieved when at last the sun began
to set, and the activities of my tormentors gradually subsided.
Then a hushed lull came over the jungle.
in the air

It

is

amazing how a leopard

arrives without

making the

slightest sound. The light of day was beginning to fade, when

I peeped through
leafy screen, and there, less than five

my

yards away, sitting facing me on the ledge was the leopard.

How long he had been there I do not know, but he was oblivious of my presence, and was looking from side to side to make

My heart literally jumped when

could hear it thumping so loudly, that I felt
sure the leopard would hear it too. I shall never forget those
moments of suspense that seemed like half an hour, before
the leopard, having fully satisfied himself that the coast was
quite sure no one was about.
I

saw him, and

clear, got

up

slowly,

and turning

to his

left,

moved

cautiously

allowed him to take a few paces, and

then, slowly raising the muzzle of my rifle over the screen,
I aligned the sights on his shoulder, and "bang" The leopard
leapt in the air, and rolled over backwards into the ravine.
He then made frantic efforts to recover, and in doing so, rolled
over and over past me down the ravine, making semi-roaring

towards the crevice,

he went by. I sprang to my feet, ready to fire again, if

necessary, but the leopard had stopped rolling and was now
lying on his side kicking and gurgling. I kept him covered with

noises as

my

rifle

until all kicking

and the gurgling

ceased.

Meanw' *H Baloo had heard the shot, and was now running
down the opposite hill to join me. I, in my excitement, had
jumped over my screen, and was standing over my first
leopard, a fine male, with a rich dark coat. I had good reason
to feel delighted with my trophy.
The news spread like wild fire, and in a few minutes lanterns

and

torches appeared everywhere.

Wellington boots with

spurs were not ideal for hill climbing, but, some, who had
already changed for dinner, arrived in full Mess Kit, and, what
was more, actually lent a hand in carrying the leopard back to
the Mess.

WHEN

WAS A GREENHORN

27

I was sharing a room with a very tall Cavalry officer. He

was dining out that night, and going on to a dance at the Club.
He returned to roost at about 3 a.m., and stumbled on to the
The
leopard in our bathroom, where there was no light.
remarks he made are unprintable
!

CHAPTER

II

A MONTH'S LEAVE

WHEN EVENTUALLY I was given a month's leave, I went, at

the end of March, to spend the first week with my brother, who
had invited me to do a bit of small game shooting with him in
Dehra Dun. And so it was that he and I, with a dozen beaters,
found ourselves before sunrise one morning on a large grassy
plain, a few miles outside the town. This plain bordered on a
privately owned forest, and is now a large colony of houses and
Army hutments, known as Clement Town, but in those days it
was just a sea of grass, interrupted only here and there by small
patches of scrub jungle, which held countless peafowl, jungle
fowl, pheasants, partridge, and occasionally deer and pig.
As it was a bit early for birds, we decided to cross the plain,
and beat the scrub jungle on the fringe of the forest, where,

perhaps, a chital stag, or a barking deer might oblige.

It was a bitterly cold morning, with a damp mist rising from
the plain. The high grass was dripping wet after a heavy dew,

and we stuck

to a

to try and keep as dry as

noticed in the first morning

narrow footpath,

Crossing the plain we

the gipsies had started their spring migration towards the Himalayas. Here and there the smoke of their camp
fires was ascending vertically heavenwards, while the dark
forms of their buffaloes could be seen huddled together where
they had been herded for the night.
possible.

light, that

beat drew a blank, so we moved on to our next

As we did not want to disturb the jungle ahead, the
beaters had been ordered not to shout or yell but merely to
clap their hands. I was standing at the junction of two pathways, and the beat had approached to within a hundred and
Woof!" I imagined the
fifty yards, when I heard "Woof!
beaters had started up a big wild boar. The "woofing" was

Our f

\t

positions.

repeated a couple of times during the next minute, coming

closer each time, until finally there was a resounding "Woof" in
the tall grass about fifteen yards in front of me. By this time I

was standing on

tip-toe, trying to

98

peer into the grass ahead of

A MONTH'S LEAVE

29

me, when suddenly I realized that what I was staring at behind

an ant-heap was the tail-end of a tiger. It was standing
perfectly still, awaiting the approach of the on-coming beaters.
I had in my hand a .351 Winchester rifle, which would have
been ideal for deer, but was hardly the weapon to use on foot at
close range on a tiger. Behind me, holding my shotgun, was
my gun-bearer, who had been a coachman in Karachi, and

had never before in all his life set foot in a jungle. Fortunately,
he had not seen the tiger. And then, one of the beaters, who
had quite unsuspectingly approached to within ten yards of
the animal, suddenly saw it and uttered the most bloodcurdling scream. It is a wonder the tiger did not pounce on
him.
I

Fortunately, both turned to bolt in opposite directions.

tiger in the jungle, and here at last was my

had never seen a

first

why

chance of bagging one. There were* many good reasons

I should not have fired in such circumstances, but the

and as it bounded across the little

two shots in quick succession with
my
little
rifle.
The
automatic
result was truly terrifying. The
my
tore
the
tiger roared,
up
ground, and after spinning round a

impulse was

pathway on

irresistible,

left, I fired

couple of times, turned to rush towards the beaters, still tearing

up the earth and roaring furiously. I fired three more shots at
it before it disappeared into the grass and then shouted to the
beaters to run for their lives. This fortunately was unnecesAnd there, only a few
sary, as the retreat had already begun
stood
He
brother.
had
sauntered
yards away
along towards
my
the
a miraculous
beat
was
had
and
had
me, thinking
over,
the
from
the bullets I
wounded
to
of
escape
say nothing
tiger,
had fired in his direction a glaring example of the dangers of
leaving one's position before a beat is really finished. To the
credit of my ex-coachman gun-bearer be it said that he had
stood his ground. But now we were all running, and did not
stop till we had put at least a hundred yards between ourselves
and the wounded tiger. The beaters collected a further furlong
away. Midst much shouting and gesticulating, each man was
describing how he had narrowly escaped with his life
The excitement over, we held a council of war. There we
were, a small rifle, two shotguns, a few very frightened people,
and a wounded tiger, hiding in a sea of tall grass. It was not a
pleasant prospect. The tiger would have to be followed up, and
the odds looked like being on him. But suddenly someone had
!

CALL OF THE TIGER

3O

a brainwave why not fetch the elephant from the Farm about
two miles away? Yes, at the Farm, there was a very old hunting
elephant, so old that its eyesight was failing, and so feeble that
it could move only at the slowest
pace. Nevertheless it was an
the
of
and
thought
elephant,
having it to help us was encourall
We
sank
the
on
to
aging.
grass in a little clearing, while my
brother's chauffeur was sent post haste to try and borrow the
old elephant.
It

seemed a very long time before anything happened, but

then, as I have already said, the elephant was old and feeble,
and could hardly walk. Its Mahawat (elephant driver) too was

a venerable old gentleman, with a scrubby beard, who,

if

not

quite so old as his charge, was, at least equally decrepit. And

so the elephant came slowly, but how glad we were to see it
arrive, and with it came our friend from the Farm, armed with
a double barrelled heavy rifle. The odds now were clearly in
our favour.
I joined my friend on the pad of the elephant, and, taking a
couple of men with us to put up trees to try and locate the
tiger, we now headed for the scene of action. We hoped, of
course, that the tiger would be lying dead, but from what I had
last seen of it, lashing its tail and roaring furiously, I found it
hard to convince myself it would be anything but very much
alive. Anyway, when we got to where I had stood, we put one
of the men up a tree. Hardly had he reached the upper
branches, when he started gesticulating frantically, pointing
towards the grass into which the tiger had disappeared. From
the signs he was making, it seemed he could see a tiger's head,
which he was trying to describe by holding his hands out in
front of him to denote something large and round. It was then

up

to us to advance.

The

elephant

moved slowly forward,

but,

a dozen paces, struck her trunk violently against the

ground, or maybe against her foreleg, making a sharp metallic
sound, which, as was explained to me later, meant that she
had scented the tiger. This was immediately answered by a
deep growl from the grass ahead, and our hitherto placid
mount now became amazingly active. She turned quickly, first
one way and then the other, and it was obvious that her
venerable mahawat, who was using his ankus freely, was
after half

having

difficulty in trying to

Advance she would not,

persuade her to face the music.

a little time to

so, after giving her

A MONTH'S LEAVE
overcome her feelings, we decided that

31

should

fire

a shot with

my small rifle into the grass while my friend waited ready with
his big rifle to meet a charge, should it come.
I fired, and a tiger leapt straight up into the air, but disappeared again into the grass. Half a minute later I fired

again, but this time nothing happened, so

now we

turned back

and consulted the man in the tree. He said that what he had
seen was a huge tiger, but that it was not wounded. When I
fired, it had sprung in the air and then dashed away as fast as
it

could go.
After firing a few more shots, we advanced very slowly, till at
saw the head of a tiger in the grass. The elephant was

last I
still

behaving nervously and would not stand

result that I missed three shots at the

by luck than judgment,

It

turned out to be a

head

still, with the

Eventually more

put a bullet right into the ear.

tigress.

My first shot had evidently hit

her in the region of the thigh, and the second low in the other
hind leg. Then, when she turned, I had hit her three times in
the body, but all shots were a trifle too far back. Nevertheless
they had crippled her, and she had not been able to go
far.

Tigers very seldom leave the cover of dense jungle, but this
pair must have been attracted into the grass outside by the
buffaloes on the plain, and we had intercepted them by pure
chance, before they had had time to get back into the dense
forest at daybreak. Despite my good luck on this occasion, I
would not hesitate to say it is not a good thing to use a small rifle
on a tiger. This applies equally to whether you are on the
ground, or safely up a tree, for in the latter case, if the tiger gets
away wounded, it will have to be followed up, so the main
danger is not removed. I had the greatest faith in my small
rifle, but, in the excitement of the moment, I had hit the tiger
five times

without getting in one single well-placed shot. True,

was jumping about, and it was difficult to place a shot, but

the fact remains, that, had it seen me when it turned after
being hit by my first two shots, I should not have been here

it

today to

tell

the tale.

was fun bringing home a

tiger, after setting out to shoot a

old
partridge!
elephant knelt down, and, with much
heaving and pushing, the tiger was duly "padded" on her back.
Four or five of us and the tiger must have made a tidy load

It

The

GALL OF THE TIGER

32

but the old

girl

stepped out like a young 'un, as though

appreciating the honour of carrying yet another tiger. She had

carried many in her day, but this time, so far as I know, she
carried

home my first and her last

After this

adventure

tiger.

went up

to Mussoorie, that
of
hill
in
stations
the
gayest
gay
Himalayas, notorious for its
It
romances!
was
not the place one would
heart-breaking
for
choose
it
but
was
normally
hunting,
only twenty miles from
Dehra Dun, and had the great advantage of being over 6,000
feet above sea level, and consequently of being beautifully
cool. There was, however, a risk attached to going there. If a
young officer went back to his Regiment with the yarn that he
had been up there hunting, well, well, nobody believed him!
little

Nevertheless, round about Mussoorie,

there was plenty of good hunting.

and

really quite close in,

The milkmen, who supplied the town with milk, lived on the
surrounding hills in little farms, sometimes many miles out, to
avoid rates and taxes. They tramped in daily over the rough
hill-tracks, carrying the milk containers slung over their
shoulders. Their small thatched houses, with low stone walls,
usually had doorways but no doors, and very seldom boasted
of a window. Their cattle, a very diminutive breed, admirably
suitable for the steep hills they lived in, grazed on the hillsides
by day, and were tethered in long cattle-sheds at night. Each

farm had its own small fields of potatoes and maize, cucumbers
and pumpkins, and, of course, its own little spriog or stream,
which provided the drinking water for both men and animals.
It was a hand to mouth existence. The cattle were often killed
by leopards, and their fields were raided at night by bears,
porcupines and wild pigs. And yet the people, though very
poor, were cheery and contented. The women fetched the
water from the springs, cut grass and leaves for the animals to
feed on at night, collected firewood, did the cooking, tended the
children, and worked in the fields. These were their ordinary
every day duties, and the risk of being attacked by wild animals
while cutting grass or collecting wood were taken as a matter of
course. The work had to be done. There was no alternative,
and, if there were bears and leopards about, well, it was just
too bad if someone was unfortunate. It did not happen too
That was the way of life for them all. But, if
often, anyway
wanted
news of a bear or leopard, he could not
any sportsman
!

A MONTH'S LEAVE

33

do better than make

friends with the hill people and promise

a reward.
I had been in Mussoorie only a few days when a milkman
came and told me that a leopard had killed one of his cows. He
lived on a hill called 'Tan Tibba" (Fairy Hill), and his name,
quite appropriately, was "Indru", (short for Indar Singh,
King of the Fairies) He said he had left a man to watch over
the kill, to keep the leopard away till I got there. I must say I
wondered how this would work. However, he seemed quite
sure that it would, but asked me to hurry, as he said the sooner
!

get there, the sooner

would

sounded

shoot the leopard.

All this

so encouraging, that I seized

guns, called up a few
coolies, and, in a few minutes, we were all under way. It was
then two o'clock in the afternoon. Incidentally, Fateh Singh,

my

who had pointed out the tiger

Dehra Dun, had followed me up to Mussoorie, and appointed
himself my guide. He was now carrying my rifle.
Only those who have actually walked over the Himalayas,
along the rough narrow tracks called 'Roads" by the hillmen,
can know what rough going really means. It was only three
miles to the kill, but it took an hour and a half to get there.
The last half mile was a scramble through dense thorny undergrowth to reach the kill, which was lying tightly wedged in
between two big rocks in the dry watercourse of a deep ravine.
The hindquarters of the cow had been partially eaten, but the
milkmen had not allowed the leopard to have a full feed.
a hillman from Tehri Garhwal

in

'

Both

were covered in heavy thorn scrub,

was not possible to see more than a few yards in
any direction. There was, however, a small open patch a few
yards wide, beyond the kill, and it was in that direction the
men said the leopard had gone, crossing over a small ridge into
the jungle beyond. I had been told by experts that leopards
usually return by the same way as they go after leaving a kill, so
I based my plan on this assumption v There was no tree anywhere near by, or even a rock behind which I could conceal
myself. I had to make myself a hide-out of leaves and branches,
and sit on the ground, about fifteen yards or less from the kill.
Through a leafy loophole I commanded the approach I presumed the leopard would take. When my men had put the
finishing touches to the leafy camouflage around me, they
departed talking loudly as they went, hoping thereby to deceive
sides of the ravine

so dense that

it

GALL OP THE TIGER

34

the leopard into thinking everyone had gone away. I had told
them not to return till I blew my whistle.
shotgun, loaded
with spherical ball, for use after dark, was beside me, while
my little -351 Winchester was in my lap, ready to deal with the

My

leopard

if

he returned in daylight.

thing that happened after the departure of the men

was that three or four very black hill ravens flew down from the
hill above and settled on top of the bushes near the kill. They
had been hovering round while the men were about, and now,
believing everyone gone, were cawing joyfully, in anticipation
of a good feed. This was excellent. Not only did it prove that
I was well and truly hidden, but it would also reassure the
leopard that his enemies had departed.
Presently the ravens flew down on to the kill and started their
feasting. Every now and then, as if struck by a sudden fear,
they whirled up in a bunch, and perched on the bushes round
about, cawing, and looking round most carefully to make quite
sure the leopard was not really on his way to punish them for

The

first

Then a black cock pheasant

the
over
and
crossed the open patch in
scuttling
ridge,
front of me. He was making the low clucking sounds they make
interfering with his property.

came

when

disturbed.

A few seconds later a truly enormous

leopard came over the

in
out
the
and
stood
ridge,
right
open patch, about twenty-five
me.
It
was
about
five o'clock, and the sun was
from
only
yards
I
him.
had
never
on
shining
imagined a leopard could be so
a
the
size
of
He
was
tigress, and I was so lost in admirahuge.
tion of this wonderful animal, that I literally forgot to shoot.
stood there for about ten seconds, and it was not until he

He

move again

came

to my proper senses. But,

he
turned right to go down
kill,
the hill, and I realized immediately that unless I took my shot
at once, I might never see him again in daylight. He might, of
course, have entered the ravine lower down to come up to the
kill that way, but I was not taking any chances. As he moved
downwards, I aimed behind his shoulder, and took what I
thought would be a good lung shot.
When I fired, he bounded straight down into the ravine
below, and disappeared without uttering a sound. I had been
told that leopards usually roar when hit. Surely, I could not
have missed

began

to

that I

instead of coming towards the

A MONTH'S LEAVE
I

was so excited that

I literally

35

fought

leafy hide-out, and, having climbed

blew
whistle for all I was worth.

on

my way

out of

my

to the ridge behind,

My men had heard the

and now raced down the hill to join me. When they
arrived, I told them what had happened. They wanted to set
off at once to find the leopard, which they said would surely
be lying dead in the ravine below. I, however, insisted that it
would be better to wait half an hour, and during this time we
made our plans for following up, based on knowledge I
had acquired from books I had read about shikar. While
one man was to follow the blood trail, two men were to throw
my

shot,

me in attendance to deal
with any possible trouble, and one man would follow me
carrying my spare gun. Never before had I followed up a big
wounded feline on foot. I was thrilled at the thought of the
adventure before me.
When the half hour was up, we put our little plan into action.
On entering the ravine, we found blood had spurted out on
both sides, and had literally sprayed both sides of the ravine.
stones into the bushes ahead, with

Obviously the bullet had gone right through the leopard, and
judging by the terrific amount of blood, he must have been
very badly hit. The blood trail led straight down the dry
watercourse. The stone-throwers were doing a swell job, and
first thirty yards the following up was plain sailing.
After that, however, the ravine entered extremely dense undergrowth, composed mainly of thorn bushes interlaced with very

for the

thorny wild rose creepers. Unless one crawled on hands and

knees, this now presented an impenetrable barrier, a most
unpleasant prospect anyway, as, under such conditions, the
advantage would definitely be with the wounded leopard.
We now bombarded the bushes with large stones, of which
the hillsides provided an abundant supply. I joined in too and
for five minutes we pounded every inch of the covert. Then I
few yards further down there was
led the way in on all fours.

a pool of blood. With so much blood about, it was amazing

there was no leopard lying dead. A few yards still further down
there was yet another pool of blood, and here I noticed that the
undergrowth had receded from the sides and it was once again
possible for us to stand on our feet. Our ravine then joined a
larger ravine, and as we entered this, and were wondering
what to do next, the man with my spare gun, Fateh Singh,

CALL OF THE TIGER

36

without asking permission, crept back up the ravine we had

come down. I suppose he felt it would be safe enough to
go back the way we had just come. On reaching the last pool
of blood he noticed that the grass on the hillside had been

just

pressed down, and suspecting that the leopard had gone that
way, decided to investigate on his own. Standing in the rocky

bed of the watercourse he looked up the steep hillside, and,

seeing nothing, concluded it would be safe enough to climb a
little way, to look for further traces of blood.
Hardly had he
gone a yard, when, suddenly, he saw the leopard's face only a
few feet from his own. With a roar of rage the leopard sprang
at him.
Instinctively Fateh Singh had turned to save his
The
throat.
leopard landed on his back, and both went
hurtling down the hillside into the ravine below. The roar of
the leopard and the screams of the man left very little to the
imagination. I immediately fired a shot in the air, and dashed
to the rescue. Only a few yards separated us, but although I

ran as

fast as I could, I arrived to find the

leopard gone. Fateh

Singh was lying in the ravine, face downwards, covered with

blood. He was unconscious.
I was closely followed by my men. When they saw Fateh
Singh they jumped to the conclusion he was dead. We lifted
him carefully, and carried him down into the big ravine. All
thoughts of the leopard had vanished from our minds. Our
main concern now was to save Fateh Singh's life.
I was greatly relieved to find that most of the blood on him
was not his own, but the leopard's. Apart from four deep
claw-marks between the nape of his neck, and point of his right
shoulder, he was otherwise unharmed. The leopard had struck
him there with his right paw. The shot I fired in the air had
saved him from being mauled to death, though I doubt whether
Fateh Singh would have got off quite so cheaply had the
leopard not been so badly wounded. What he was suffering
from now was not his injury, but just shock. He was deathly
pale and his hands were as cold as ice. His eyes were closed
and his body limp. We did all we could in the way of first
aid, but it was several minutes before he eventually regained
his senses.

Leopard claws are noted for their poisonous effects. There is

always a secretion of blood, from the animals they kill, in the
cleft on the underside of each claw. This, in various stages of

A MONTH

LEAVE

37

decomposition, is, of course, highly dangerous. I washed the

wounds as thoroughly as I could with water from my waterbottle, and having covered them over with a clean handkerchief, sent Fateh Singh, with two men to assist him, up the
the milkman's little farmhouse. There they were to
prepare a kettle of boiling water, and send one of the men
post haste into town, to fetch a dandy (a modified type of

hill to

palanquin, carried by four men), to the nearest possible point,

Singh to go home in. Having done this I was once

again free to think about the leopard.
There was very little I could do. I had only the one man left
with me, and it would have been madness to enter the undergrowth again. The sun was about to disappear behind the hill,
and there was no time to spare, either in looking for the
leopard or in getting Fateh Singh back to hospital. I decided,
therefore, to fire a few shots with my shotgun into the bushes,
to try and discover the whereabouts of the leopard in that way.

for Fateh

A dozen shots,
When

however, failed to disclose anything.

got to the farmhouse, Fateh Singh was drinking a

bowlful of fresh milk. There are no cups and saucers in the
I

washed the claw wounds again with warm water, and

Before
presently we all set off on the homeward journey.
I
told
milkman
the
to
out
at
next
dawn
leaving, however,
go
to
a
of
hillock
the
and
from
scene
disaster,
morning
opposite
there to use his eyes and ears to discover what he could about
hills

the

wounded

leopard.

At "Dhobi Ghat" (laundry) a mile away, we found a dandy

waiting, and the hero of the evening was duly placed in it.
Actually, he was not too badly hurt, and was now thoroughly

The entire
enjoying the great fuss being made over him.
and
children
of
their
wives
dhobis
and
colony
(washermen)
had turned out to see him, and hear the story, which was now
being repeated with amazing embellishments. The hero had
actually grappled with the leopard, swung it off its feet by its
tail, and thrown it down the bill, where, undoubtedly it would
die (presumably of shame)
I escorted Fateh Singh to a hospital, where the doctor
seemed more concerned about the technical advisability of
reporting the accident to the Police, than about the patient's
!

condition, which, he agreed, was not at all serious. Having

assured him in writing, that I would hold myself personally

CALL OF THE TIGER

38

responsible for any consequences, I persuaded him to leave all

formalities over till the next morning, and I sat there and

watched him apply antiseptics and dress the wounds. I also

persuaded him to admit Fateh Singh to the hospital for the
night.
I

did not return to Pari Tibba too early the next morning, as
was my first duty to visit the hospital, and inquire after

I felt it

Fateh Singh. Fortunately, he was very much better, and

begged me to allow him to accompany me to find the leopard,
but this, of course, was quite out of the question. I had already
engaged a dozen men for the trip, realizing they would be
required to carry the leopard, or me, or both of us home
It must have been about eleven in the morning when we
reached the spot. The milkman met us and gave us the good
news that he had seen the leopard in the early morning. His
attention had been attracted by grunting noises, to a spot
about two hundred yards away from where we had last seen
He then saw something shaking a sapling,
it in the evening.
and thought at first that it was a monkey, but, when the grunting continued, he was astonished to see the leopard, gnawing
the trunk and shaking the sapling.
It did not take me long to make a plan. Above the spot
indicated by the milkman the hillside was open and precipitous.
I ordered the men to go round to the crest above, and roll
stones down into the bushes below. I myself moved round to a
small hillock opposite, about 80 yards across a ravine, from
where I could knock out the leopard if I saw him.
The bombardment of the bushes was most thoroughly carried
out, but no leopard appeared. I then ordered the men to come
down the hill very slowly, but to continue rolling stones. Not
long after this one of the men called out he could see a part of
the leopard hidden under a bush. I ordered the men to stone
him from above, but when, in spite of all the stoning, he did
not move, we realized he was dead.
I have now shot scores of leopards, but have never seen
another to equal this one in size. He was eight feet four inches
in length, and was the most massively built leopard I have ever
seen. My bullet had hit him rather too far back behind the
lung. Even so, with all that loss of blood, it was remarkable he
had succeeded in crawling away such a distance.
News had spread all over the town, and crowds collected to
!

A MONTH'S LEAVE

39

see the leopard that had mauled a man. The leopard was
first to the hospital, where the much bandaged Fateh

carried

Singh, stepped forward, and with folded hands, stooped to

touch the paws of the departed Raja of Pan Tibba. The
crowd gave him a tremendous ovation.

As a general rule, poorer class Indians hate hospital Fateh

Singh was no exception, and a couple of days later he turned
up to sec me.
"Did you tell the doctor you were leaving?" I asked. "No,"
said he, "I escaped when no one was looking !" Well, that was
!

that,

and nothing would persuade him

to return.

A few days later he was fit enough to walk over the hills with
me

again. The berries were ripening and the bear season had
begun. Every hillman regards the Himalayan Black Bear as a
personal enemy. The disfigured faces one 'sees from time to
time are tangible proof of his savage temper. He does not go
in search of human beings to attack them, but woe betide the
man, woman, or child, who chances to meet him on a jungle
road, or, while gathering wood or grass, comes upon him
unawares. He is quite ruthless in his attacks. Standing up on
his hind legs, he strikes with his forepaws at his victim's face,
removing eyes, ears and flesh from off the cheekbones. The
results are truly terrible to behold. He is a heavily built, jet
black animal with a large white "V" across his huge chest.
With his powerful arms he breaks big branches as if they were
twigs. He is conscious of his strength, and a full-grown male
will readily engage a leopard, or even a tiger, in mortal combat.
Quite often such a fight ends in death to both combatants.
The hillmen say that in thick scrub the bear defeats a leopard,

open jungle, the leopard generally wins. Much, of

course, depends on the size of the individuals engaged.
These bears are mainly nocturnal in their habits, though in
but, in

quiet, undisturbed localities, they usually start feeding before

dark, and do not retire to their caves until shortly before sunrise.

Very early

in the mornings or late in the evenings are the

is most likely to get a shot.

They climb
with ease, and habitually do so to eat berries and acorns,
even resorting sometimes to making a temporary platform for
themselves high up in the trees, by bending over the branches
to make a sort of machan.

times a sportsman

trees

CALL OF THE TIGER

4O

During the berry season one could always expect to find a

bear or two on Pari Tibba. This year, as usual, a large bear

had established himself on the hill, and had defeated me time

and time again in my efforts to get a shot at him. Morning
after morning Fateh Singh and I had
gone out long before
to
our
dawn,
pick
way through deep valleys and up and down
steep hillsides, just to see our friend disappearing over the crest
It had been an
exasperating chase. True it
is that to see the dawn
breaking over the summits of the

of the next spur.

Himalayas is a sight never to be forgotten. As the sun rises

from behind the endless range of mountains, its first rays strike
the snow-capped peaks, many of which are above the 20,000
foot level, and which extend as far as the
eye can see, turning
the eternal snows into brilliant gems of
ruby, pink and gold.
Then one after another, the deep indigo blue of the lesser
mountains, changes first to bright emerald green, and later to
sun-lit yellow, and then it is
But, quite honestly, I felt
day.
I had witnessed as
dawns
as
ever
I could have wished to
many
see. I had begun to ache for a
morning in bed Plucking up
!

courage, at

last, I

told Fateh Singh that I thought the bear

had
won, and that I would spend the next morning
not on
Pari Tibba
But the Alarm clock, which had wakened me so
faithfully for a week or more was determined to do its stuff!
Whether it had not managed fully to unwind itself, or whether
my servant had absent-mindedly started to wind it up again
before realizing it was no longer needed, I shall never
know,
but, two hours before dawn it gave off one more short sharp
tinkle, and woke me up with a start.
Realizing what had
happened, I turned over and tried to go to sleep again, but
!

could I? Eventually laughing at myself for doing so, I

got out
of bed, woke up the astonished Fateh Singh, and told him to
get ready at once.

At
crest

We

first light,

while climbing the last hillside to reach the

a slight noise in the deep ravine below.

we suddenly heard

stopped to listen and our ears confirmed that there was

something on the move. Presently, to our joy, the big bear
emerged from the dense undergrowth, and started climbing
obliquely up the opposite hillside a hundred yards away. He
evidently realized the danger of being abroad when it was
getting light, and was hurrying to get home to his cave. I was
amazed at his agility, and the ease with which he moved up the

A MONTH'S LEAVE

41

very steep hillside. Partly screened as he was by the undergrowth, I could not get a clear shot at him, so waited for him to
reach the open spur towards which he was heading. He crossed
the spur so fast, however, that I was unable to draw a bead on

him, and he disappeared from view before I could get a shot.

It looked as though the bear had won
again A minute later,
he
on
the
above
and here at last he
however,
appeared
spur
and
looked
round.
He
was
now three hundred yards
paused
!

away
I

across the valley,

took the shot with

well.

The

result

round with a

and

my little

I realized it

was

my

which

was instantaneous.
and raced at amazing speed

roar,

last

chance,

knew so
The bear swung right

-351 Winchester,

straight

down

the steep hillside, emitting roaring noises as he did so. He was

moving as if the very devil was after him, and it looked as

though
he would go hurtling over the precipice, towards which he was
heading at full speed, but, with astounding skill, he pulled up
at the very edge, and then,
realizing that he could go no
further, looked round for a way out of his difficulties. It was
then that I sent another bullet after him, and, with a yell, he
launched himself over the cliff. Crashing right through an oak
tree about sixty feet below, he
disappeared out of sight into
the dense undergrowth deep down in the ravine. A minute
later we heard a long drawn-out wail.
Then Fateh Singh
climbed round to the rock from which the bear had made his
leap into space. He called out that there was lots of blood, and
after peering over the precipice, discovered the bear
lying dead

away down

in the ravine below.

CHAPTER

III

DARBARI AND SAKTU

IN THE many railway journeys I did back and forth across
the face of India, I once found myself travelling in the metregauge railway between Gondia and Jubbulpore. It was a very
hot afternoon, and I was enjoying the solitude of a compartment
It was with mixed feelings, therefore, that I
the
entry of an elderly Englishman, who, judging by
regarded
the group of officials seeing him off, was undoubtedly a
all to myself.

He

me with a "Good morning". All

abroad
always say "Good morning", quite
elderly Englishmen

policeman.

greeted

When the train started

regardless of the actual time of day
his friends good-bye, settled himself comfortably into a
!

he bid

gazing out of the window in silence. This was

Englishman's taciturnity is proverbial, but on a
railway journey it is usually accompanied by a newspaper or
a book. He had neither. He just gazed at the big jungles we
were passing through, and at the hills in the distance beyond.
When at last we reached a small railway junction, which
boasted of a refreshment room, we both ordered tea, which was
brought to us in our compartment by a waiter.
corner,

odd.

and

sat

An

"Wonderful jungles we passed through this afternoon," said I.

"Ah," said he, "so you noticed them. My favourite jungles.
Shan't ever be able to go there again. Am retiring shortly. Am
just going round, saying good-bye to everybody."
He was an Inspector General of Police. I listened with both
ears cocked to the delightful stories he told of the many tigers
he had slain in those jungles, and I remember to this day one
part of a thrilling adventure. He had wounded a huge tiger in
a beat. By all rules of the game it should have dropped stone
dead, but, quite unaccountably, it had not done so, and what
was more, it had gone a considerable distance without
collapsing. As the blood trail diminished, it had become more
and more difficult to follow up, until, at last, feeling very
hungry and thirsty, my friend called a halt, and sat down to
rest. The men with him also sat down to smoke. Presently, one
4*

DARBARI AND SAKTU

43

man

got up and was walking away, when suddenly the tiger,

who was too badly wounded to charge, limped out of the jungle,
and went straight for him. Everyone shouted to the man to
run, but he was so petrified when he saw the tiger, that he
became rooted to the ground, and the tiger just picked him up
in his mouth and walked off with him like a cat does with a
mouse. "Why didn't you shoot him?" I asked. "I couldn't.
I had unloaded my rifle, and left it standing against a
tree."

Inspector General gave me a few of his favourite jungle

addresses, and, on arrival in Jubbulpore, I wrote for a shooting
permit. As I knew I could not hope for more than a week-end
leave, I chose the most accessible shooting block mentioned

The

by him, and when, at last, I got the leave, I left by train for the
station of Lamta. A walk of seven miles then brought me
to the small jungle village of Kanaheri, which was my destina-

little

tion.

On

arrival I selected a large shady tree, about a hundred

from
the village, under which I hoped to bivouac for the
yards
I
was
night.
travelling light, just my rifle, bedding-roll, and
a few stores. I was accompanied by my faithful servant, Baloo,
who was always my right hand man on such occasions. News
of our arrival spread through the village like wild fire, and,

presently, Jirroo, headman of Kanaheri, arrived, axe on

shoulder, to see me. I did not like the looks of him. He was offhand in his manner, and did not appear to welcome my arrival

in his village.

He

did not volunteer to speak unless spoken

to,

interested in tigers. The sum total of information I could get out of him was that two or three times a week a
tigress walked through the village in the dead of night, but, so

and did not seem

had not interfered with the inhabitants. I tried to conceal

the nervous feeling that crept over me when I received this bit of
information, and, after the departure of Jirroo, ordered Baloo
to lay in a good stock of firewood to keep the camp fires burning during the night! After all, we were to spend the night
far,

under a

tree in the

open

No

tents,

no nothing, and such a

friendly tigress
I tried all kinds of conversation with Jirroo, but he appeared
unmoved. He was interested in a contract for bamboos, which
!

were to be cut in the forest and sent God alone knows where, but,
apart from that, the jungles he lived in did not seem to interest

CALL OF THE TIGER

44

him

in the very least. After a few minutes of his company, I

could very joyfully have kicked him in the pants. Finally,
however, with the prospect of tigers fast fading from my mind,
I asked Jirroo if he could arrange a few beaters to beat for a
sambur stag or a pig. The words seemed to strike a hidden
chord A broad smile came over the face of the hitherto disagreeable headman, and he said, with quite unexpected
Yes, why not?" and then went on to
feeling: "Why not?
men
be returning shortly with bamboos
that
would
his
explain
from the forest, and we could all repair to yonder hill, where
doubtless a sambur or a pig or something would oblige.
To win the hearts of the jungle people is half the battle for
!

anyone wishing to have an enjoyable and successful shoot. The

way to do this is to provide them with a jolly good feed
of meat pig or deer or anything. Meat is a highly prized
delicacy, which does not come their way too often, and is the
surest and quickest way to their hearts. And, besides, it very
often gives the sportsman quite a bit of fun. There is no knowing what may turn out in one of these beats for meat, sometimes
even a tiger.
When about thirty of Jirroo's men had collected, we set off
towards the hill. Jirroo, now transformed and smiling, arranged
everything. He told the beaters exactly what to do, and then
best

led me through the jungle to the top of the hill, at least a

thousand feet above the starting line of the beat. There we
sat in silence, while the beaters moved into position, and then
combed the hillside up towards us. Nothing at all appeared,
and the beaters were within a hundred yards of us, when
suddenly, I caught sight of a magnificent sambur stag, sneaking through the jungle behind us. How he had got there was a
His head and neck were stuck straight out in
mystery.
front of him, with his massive antlers thrown right back and
almost touching his spine. His bristles were standing up all
along his back and his tail was in the air, giving him a most
peculiar appearance, but never had I seen a sambur with such

magnificent horns By swinging right round, I just managed to

get in my shot before he disappeared. I knew I had hit him and
ran after him for all I was worth. But he was badly hit, and
!

going a few yards, stopped, and toppled over.

Everyone was hugely delighted, including myself, for it was
a trophy well worth having. He was a big stag, weighing about

after

DARBARI AND SAKTU

650 pounds, so there was meat
the inhabitants of Kanaheri.

Having achieved our object,

camp. The stag, slung on

45

enough and

to spare for all

go straight back
was
hoisted
on to the
poles,
shoulders of about ten aborigines, who, fortunately, seemed to
regard this very strenuous task as a great privilege, for were
to

I decided to

they not going to receive a large share of the greatly coveted

meat?

On reaching camp, Baloo and Jirroo both helped me remove

the "cape", or "mask", and sever the head from the carcass.
When we had done this, Jirroo asked permission to carry the
rest of the carcass away to his own home in the village, where,
he said, he would distribute the meat to
on the point of granting this simple

all

the people.

was

when Baloo

request,

"Sah," he said, in his broken English, "peoples

man
this
very bad man. Peoples say tell master no good
saying
him.
meat
to
He will take it plenty money from poor
give
meat
I
No
free." This was rather awkward
give
peoples.
I
that
then
told
wanted
the
skin
and
thought quickly,
Jirroo
and that the stag would have to be skinned where it was. That
solved the difficulty. Later, I gave Jirroo a lion's share of the
meat, but also saw that all others got their share free.
It was while the meat was being distributed that two men
arrived. They were just aborigines, belonging to the aboriginal
tribes of those parts. One was a Gond and the other a Baiga.
Believing them to be just the usual hangers-on wanting meat,
intervened.

arriving in the hopes of getting something for nothing, I paid

attention. It was not until the crowd had dispersed

them no

that I realized they were wanting to speak to me.

"Who are you?" I asked.

"Sahib," came thesimple answer. "We are shikaris (hunters)".

Now, although I had wandered through a good many
jungles between the Nilgiris and the Himalayas, I had yet to

meet the legendary shikari one reads about in books the man
could lead one straight to the tiger's den, or track the
mighty bison to his lair Almost contemptuously I said, "And
what kind of hunters are you?"

who

"Sahib," once again came the simple answer,

and of bison."

"we

are hunt-

ers of tiger

"Where do you live?" I asked.

"We live at Bhondwa, a village

eight miles

from here."

GALL OF THE TIGER

46

"Then what brings you here to-day?"

"We came to see about bamboos from the forest."
Bamboos Bamboos
It seemed to me all men
Bamboos
in this part of the world were bamboo-minded
Would it ever
be possible to make them think of anything else? But my
!

"We have to-day seen a very

thoughts were interrupted.
big bull bison about a mile from here."
On hearing this, I asked the gentlemen to sit down! The
sun was setting, and it was much too late to go after the bison
that day, but they thought he would probably remain in the
same locality overnight, and we could find him again in the
morning. They informed me they were practised in the art of
tracking, and had every hope of being able to show me the
.

bison.

And

met Darbari, the Baiga, and Saktu,

some day they would be
counted amongst my best friends, and that I would remember
them to the end of my days. There was nothing attractive
about their looks. Both had the typical aboriginal features of
their tribes, and both were of small stature. Saktu looked the
older of the two, but, actually, it was the other way round. This
gave Darbari precedence, and, although they always worked
as a pair, Darbari was the leader.
I spent an unhappy night under my tree. It was the middle
of December, and remarkably chilly at night in the open.
Baloo covered up his head, got well down under his blankets
and soon was snoring sonorously. How I wished I could have
done the same
Lying in my valise, I watched the firelight
the
sambur
on
mask, which had been removed from
flickering
the skull, and was now hanging suspended by a string from a
branch, out of the reach of jackals. A stick had been thrust
through both earholes, so as to open out the mask to air, and
now, in the firelight, it looked like the face of a horrible demon.
I wondered, too, if the friendly tigress would pass through the
village, and then come along to say, "How d'you do?" to
me under my tree! The Central Provinces had a very bad
so

it

the Gond.

was that

I first

Little did I think that

reputation for man-eaters. I tried to console myself that maneaters were somewhat rare in the Balaghat District, where I
to be at that precise moment ! Nevertheless, I had
visions of myself being carried off like a mouse, and I just could

happened

not sleep.

Occasionally a sambur "pooked", and later a

DARBARI AND SAKTU

47

leopard started roaring on the hill about a mile away, repeating

his "sawing" roar over and over again. I lay awake for hours
listening to the jungle noises, and the snores of the care-free

And then, eventually I must have fallen asleep, for,

instead of feeling the hot breath of the tigress on my cheek, I
awoke to find Baloo gently shaking my shoulder, to wake me
Baloo.

up for my early morning mug of tea.

At the first glow of the Eastern sky,

I sallied forth

with the

two

trackers, and, passing through the village, took the forest

road heading eastwards towards the hills. Not far from the

we came across the tracks of the tigress. She had not

entered the village that night, but both Darbari and Saktu
confirmed that she often did so, and that they had seen her
pug-marks leading through the main alley. I had quite made
up my mind that, if ever I came there again, I would at least

village,

bring a tent, if only for self protection, and peace of mind at

night It was cold and we walked briskly to try and warm ourselves. It was just beginning to get light enough to see. Our
road led into a deep sal forest interspersed with bamboo
clumps, the joy of any bison's heart. The trackers pointed out
where they had seen the bison the evening before, but we did
not stop there to pick up his tracks. Instead, we went straight
to the nearest water, about half a mile further on, a series of
small pools in an otherwise dried up watercourse.
At the first pool the trackers circled round the water's edge,
but shook their heads. There were many tracks there but not
the ones we wanted. We then went on to the next, and the
next, until, at last, I saw Darbari nodding his head. The tracks
of the big bull bison were there. I joined him immediately,
but, to be quite honest, I had a shock of disappointment. The
tracks looked most unimpressively small! They were hardly
larger than those of a village bull. Having read in books that
the Indian Bison, or Bos Gaurus (to use his Latin designation),
was the biggest of all species of bovines still existing on our
!

had quite expected to see enormous tracks to corresthe size of this huge animal. For an animal reputed
with
pond
to stand over six feet at the shoulder, and with several on
record measuring seven feet, the tracks seemed absurdly small.
I mention this, because I feel sure the same thought would
planet, I

anyone seeing bison tracks for the first time. The bison
essentially an animal of the hills, and naturalists give this as

strike
is

CALL OF THE TIGER

48

the explanation for his very small feet, which are very hard and
therefore more suitable for the hilly country he lives in.
Both trackers were looking well pleased, and assured me that
the tracks were very fresh. They led from the drinking pool to
a Forest Line, which we followed for about half a mile. Here
the tracks were clearly visible in the dew-covered grass. Further
<m, however, the bison had left the Forest Line, and turned into
the dense jungle, skirting the foot of the hill, where the ground
was as hard as a brick, and the dew had not penetrated through

the foliage of the trees.

To

find

any sign of the

tracks

was now

and was

very difficult,
definitely a job for the experts. I was
Darbari
and Saktu pick out and read the
spellbound watching
to
me
were
which
signs
quite imperceptible. A crushed leaf on
the ground, a blade of grass nibbled, a twig snapped in two, a
displaced stone, leaves nibbled from a bush in passing, all these

which caught the expert eye and helped them

If they lost the trail temporarily, the two
trackers separated, and turning in opposite directions, scouted
round until one of them found a fresh clue. He then called us

were the

signs

unravel the

trail.

up with a click of his tongue, pointed to the clue with the

handle of his small axe, and after receiving an approving nod
from his partner, moved forward again on the trail. Needless to
say

we moved

were

in

dead

silence.

as noiseless as cats

My

moving

bare-footed companions
through the dense under-

could to control my clumsy feet. At

last we came across some droppings, a cow-pat of phenomenal
size. Darbari immediately stuck his big toe right into the dung,
and then looked at me and grinned. He was not trying to be
funny. The warmth of the dung had disclosed that our quarry
was near at hand. Darbari now whispered to me to keep my

growth, while I did

rifle

all I

ready.

We had been climbing uphill most of the way, and had now
reached the edge of a small plateau. Here, while we were pausing to take stock of our surroundings, we suddenly heard the
breaking of leaves ahead of us. The trackers pointed to a bush
on the far side of a clearing, whence the noise had come. The
wind was in our favour, and after a few seconds we moved
forward again, advancing to within about twenty yards of the
bush. Then there were more noises, and it became quite
obvious that the bison was somewhere there. We could hear
him browsing on the leaves of the bush, and could actually

DARBARI AND SAKTU

49

hear him making the snuffling noises cattle make when feeding.
My friends now slipped behind trees I too was just considering
getting behind one, when the bush was violently agitated, and
an enormous bull bison stepped into the clearing in front of me.
For the first time in my life I felt almost too frightened to
shoot. Never had I imagined a bison could be so colossal,
biggest bull at a cattle show would have looked like a
beside him. At that moment, which I shall always rememt
I agreed instantly with the naturalists who had called him "T
most magnificent of all the bovines".
And then I did one of the stupidest things I have ever done
in my life. I raised my double barrelled black powder '577
There was
rifle, and aimed behind the bison's shoulder.
with
much
as
but
the
bison
was
that,
nothing
wrong
only fifteen
me
I
from
and
was
at
me,
yards
looking straight
slipped a
It
in such
round
each
seem
excusable
finger
trigger.
may
circumstances to do this, especially as a bison has a reputation
of being terribly dangerous when wounded, but the result was
shattering When I pressed the trigger, there was a thundering
report and a cloud of smoke, followed immediately by a resounding snort from the bison, and I felt myself being hurled backwards
to the ground. When the smoke lifted, I found myself sitting on
the ground, with my trigger fingers tingling with pain, and the
bison gone When I opened the breech of my rifle to reload, I
found both cartridges had been fired. My first reaction to this
discovery was one of joy. Surely, after receiving this double
dose of lead the bison could not have gone far to die
After a few minutes, we picked up the trail, but to my utter
shame and dismay, there was not a drop of blood to be found
anywhere. It seemed unbelievable that I could have missed,
but that was exactly what had happened. I can only imagine
that having had fingers round both triggers, the recoil had
caused me to press the second trigger just the minutest fraction
of a second after the first cartridge had been fired, so that the
second one went off before the first bullet had left the barrel
and the jump of the rifle had sent both bullets flying up in the
air. I can think of no other explanation.
The trackers assured me there was absolutely no hope of
coming up with the bison again that day. They pointed out
!

that he must have put at least three miles between himself and
and, if he did stop to rest, he would do so with both eyes

us,

CALL OF THE TIGER

5O

open and both cars cocked, so that we could not possibly hope
to take him by surprise again. But I was feeling mad with
myself, and, out of sheer shame, begged the trackers to help me
find the bison again. I think they must have realized how
mortified I was feeling. After sitting down for a smoke and a
between themselves, they said, "Chalo Sahib," (Come on,
"We'll see what we can do." It was a fool's errand, but, at
moment, it meant a lot to me.
>r five or six hours we followed the trail,
up hill and down

dale for miles through dense undergrowth, over the densely

hills.
Only in one place had the bison stopped to sit
down, but had evidently soon thought better of it, and gone
on again. I had not had a mouthful to eat and was beginning

wooded

to feel hungry, and had also begun to realize how futile it was
to go on. When we reached a cool, shady little dell, surrounded

by hills, I called a halt. We sat down in silence to

a while. Darbari and Saktu got out their tobacco pouches
and were preparing to smoke again, when a slight sound came
We listened intently, and presently the sound
to our ears.
on

all sides

rest

was repeated. As we were literally sitting on the trail

time, it seemed quite possible the bison had decided to
in the coolness of this

at the
lie

up

specially as it contained a little

tall reeds.
The trackers got up very

little dell,

water surrounded by
quietly, and beckoned

me to follow. Undoubtedly there was

something in the reeds about thirty yards ahead, but a small
knoll screened the animal from view. We crept forward a few
yards, until the trackers, quite obviously, did not like to venture
any nearer, so I removed my shoes, and on hands and knees
crept forward to the little knoll. When I peeped over the top,
I saw a big black animal in the reeds, not more than six yards
from me. I could clearly see the outline of the back, and even
the hair, but the front part of the animal was hidden by the
reeds. My heart began thumping loudly. I took steady aim at
the spine, and using only one finger this time, fired both barrels
in quick succession. The animal uttered a piercing shriek, but
the smoke prevented me from seeing the rest.
I had shot an enormous black wild boar.
Darbari and Saktu were grinning with glee. "Didn't you
hear us tell you it was a pig?" they asked. My answer was an

angry "no !".

I had never seen a Central Provinces boar. The wild pigs

DARBARI AND SAKTU

had seen

5!

were grizzled, and looked more

than
as black as a bear. He was so
but
this
one
was
black,
grey
that
it
would
have
taken
six men to carry him,
about
large,
and there were only three of us. We covered him over with grass
and leaves to protect him from vultures, and returned to
camp, from where a party of men was sent out to fetch hinyiIt had been a day of the bitterest disappointments for
rjp>
but the trackers and inhabitants of the village were delighted
with the result of our day's work. Aboriginals prefer pork to
in other parts of India

any other kind of meat. Quite unwittingly I had become

immensely popular, and, before I left that afternoon, was given
a most cordial invitation to return
!

One afternoon early in February I was sitting on my

veranda in Nagpur, when a telegraph peon arrived on a
and presented me with the following telegram "Today
Chacheri jungle from Saktu shikari." The
had
been
sent from Charegaon, a small station on the
telegram
bicycle

tiger killed buffalo

metre-gauge railway to Jubbulpore.

Here I must explain that although about eighty miles separated my headquarters from the jungles of my newly-made
aborigine friends, Darbari and Saktu, they had kept in touch
with me, and had been making untiring efforts to bait a fine
big tiger for me. This tiger had been striking terror into the
hearts of the jungle people around Chacheri, by stopping
bullock carts on jungle roads, and lifting a bullock from under

the nose of the driver, just whenever he felt inclined to do so.

Having removed a bullock from under the yoke, he then
proceeded to drag it to the side of the road and devour it with

angry growls, in

full

view of the

terrified

occupants of the cart,

unarmed men, women, and children. The activities of this

tiger had brought practically all jungle traffic to a standstill. I
was Adjutant of my Regiment in those days, but my Colonel
all

servant
very good-humouredly gave me two days leave.
Baloo got my kit and a few stores together, and we caught the
nine o'clock evening train for Charegaon, arriving there at the
ungodly hour of three o'clock in the morning.
I shall never forget that arrival. After throwing our kit out
of the train, my bearer and I found ourselves standing alone on
a deserted platform. We had hoped the shikaris and some

My

coolies

would be there

to

meet

us,

but there was no one in

CALL OF THE TIGER

52

Chacheri, where the tiger had killed, was four or five

The Railway Station, which boasted of two, or
perhaps three, very dim oil lamps, presented a truly dismal
and unhopeful outlook, but the station master who had tapped
out the telegram proved to be a really good fellow. He aroused

sight.

miles away.

^servant from his slumbers, and ordered him to escort me to

tne village a short distance away, to try and find someone to
accompany me to Chacheri. We went from house to house, but
the inmates all refused to enter the jungles at that unearthly
hour, until at last we found a man, braver or perhaps more
mercenary than the others, who volunteered to accompany me,
provided I would pay him five rupees, (equivalent to about a
I had to
week's wages for a man of his type in those days)
leave Baloo and the kit at the Railway station, in charge of the
stout-hearted station master, who promised to send it on to
Chacheri by bullock cart as soon as it was daylight.
thin moon was shining somewhat feebly, but thin and
.

though it was, it proved to be a boon. Without it I

doubt whether we could have found our way through the
intervening jungle, which though not very dense was dense
enough to be discomfiting at that time of night, especially as it
was well known to hold tigers and leopards. In answer to my
inquiry, the guide assured me, however, that there had been no
man-eaters for some time. This at least was comforting, and
it relieved me immediately of the burden of carrying my rifle
We got to Chacheri just before dawn. The hamlet consisted
of about a score of grass huts, and the inmates were all sound
feeble

asleep.

The

village dogs resented

our entry into the

village,

and made enough noise barking to waken the dead. We too

then began adding to the uproar by shouting out the names of
the shikaris. Awakened from their slumbers, and rubbing
their eyes apologetically, Darbari and Saktu now emerged
from a broken-down abandoned hut, which had served them
as shelter for the night. I pretended to be angry, and asked
had not met me at the railway station. "But," said
why they
U
they, h6w were we to know that you would come?"
They told me now how everything had come about. They
had heard of this tiger at Chacheri, which was about fifteen
miles from their own village, and knowing that I wanted a
really big tiger, had decided to try and bait him for me. They
had tied up a buffalo bait at the junction of a nullah with the

DARBARI AND SAKTU

53

Weinganga River, where they had seen the tracks of the big
tiger in the sand. The tiger had killed the bait and Saktu had
gone to the Railway station to send me that telegram. Now
the tiger had eaten half the carcass, and was lying up in the
dense jungle near his kill. The kill, they said, was about a mile
from the village, only a few yards from the river itself.
Darbari and Saktu dived back into the broken hut to collect
their little axes, without which they never ventured into the
jungle.

would

A minute later we were racing along as fast as our legs

allow, to try and reach the river before first light. We

followed the road which led to a ford in the river, and actually
only just succeeded in winning our race against time. As we
reached the river bank it was just beginning to get light.
The nullah containing the kill was about a furlong to our
right, but instead of attempting to go through the dense jungle
to get there, we decided to follow the bank of the river itself.
Just as we left the road to do so, a troupe of grey monkeys
started springing about in the trees, screaming their warning

alarm: "Khok! Khok!

Beware

Beware

Khok-a-Khok-a-Khok

!"

Tiger!

They were extremely agitated but

Tiger
down
and looking in our direction,
started
calming
presently
from which the shikaris concluded they were alarmed at our
approach. I was young and inexperienced in these matters,
and accepted this view, but when we descended the river bank
fifty yards further on we found the fresh tracks of the tiger
leading up from the water's edge into the dense jungle from
where the monkeys had uttered their alarm. It struck me the
old tiger had been down to the river just ahead of us to have
!

morning drink.
minute or two later we reached the junction of the river
with the nullah where the kill had taken place. This nullah
was at right angles to the river, with tall grass on both sides,
and steep banks rising about fifteen feet up to the dense jungle
above. The shikaris were in the act of pointing out the position
of the dead buffalo, about thirty yards ahead, when a magnificent tiger stepped out of the jungle, right on top of the bank
overlooking the kill. Whether the shikaris made some sudden
movement which caught his eye I cannot say, but as I raised
my rifle slowly, the tiger turned his head sharply and saw us,
his

and immediately crouched, A look of astonishment came over

his face, and with his ears laid well back, he stared at us. He

54

GALL OF THE TIGER

presented an easy target, so I took careful aim and fired. The

tiger swung back on his haunches, and then disappeared into
the jungle, without making a sound. I had taken very careful
aim, but I had a strong feeling I had missed Proof, however,
could not be obtained immediately, for, to have gone up that
bank then to look for a blood trail, would have been nothing
short of lunacy.
The shikaris assured me the tiger was wounded. They
pointed out, however, that the jungle was very dense, and that
it would be advisable to drive a herd of buffaloes through the
!

undergrowth to try and locate him. The buffaloes, they said,

could be obtained only by going back to the village, which,
after all, was not so far away, and perhaps my bearer would
have arrived and I could have a cup of tea. All this sounded
very reasonable, and, although the whole plan rather smacked
of a desire on the part of the shikaris to put off the evil hour, I
agreed to carry out their suggestion, so back to the village we
went.
My bearer had not arrived, but, about half an hour later, the
shouts of the children and the barking of the dogs, heralded his
very welcome approach. I had selected a camp site under some
large shady mango trees, not far from the village, and with the
aid of the villagers had collected plenty of firewood and got a
good fire going. When Baloo arrived it did not take long to
prepare a pot of boiling hot tea, and soon my wonderful
servant had cooked and produced a most enjoyable breakfast.
I often wondered what I would have done without the willing

and resourceful Baloo.

Meanwhile the shikaris had approached the village herdsmen
about lending their buffaloes, but in vain. They flatly refused
to have anything to do with the idea of driving their buffaloes
through the jungle to look for a wounded tiger, and for this I
could hardly blame them! Having eaten and drunk well, I
now called up Darbari and Saktu, and, taking a couple of
spare men with us, we set forth to tackle the tiger ourselves.
Instead of taking the road we had followed that morning, we
now tried a short cut through the forest, which the shikaris said
would lead us to the same spot from the opposite direction.
waded across a small stream, and then, after passing through
a lovely forest of big trees, eventually emerged into a sandy
nullah, about a furlong short of the kill. There, having taken

We

DARBARI AND SAKTU

55

shikaris, and made quite sure that it was

my
we
loaded,
proceeded in dead silence down the sandy bed of
the nullah, which led tortuously towards the river. Vultures
were flying low, skimming over our heads, while others were
rifle

from the

We hurried our steps,

were
to
demolish
the kill, but on
thinking they
descending
last
a
the
bend
most
wonderful
rounding
sight greeted our
than
more
in
Not
full
view, sitting on
thirty yards away,
eyes.
a
the
bank
was
We
of
when
we saw him.
huge tiger.
gasped
top
He raised his head with a jerk, and his ears went back
immediately. If he growled, I was too excited to hear him.
flapping noisily in the trees above.

I took aim at his left shoulder and fired. He

turned over sideways, and, without uttering a sound, rolled
down the steep bank into the tall grass below, where, still
in complete silence, he remained hidden from our view.
The silence led us to think the tiger must be~dead. To make

Very quickly

quite sure, however, I sent one of the spare men up the opposite
bank to climb a tree and peer into the long grass. He had

climbed only about

fifteen feet

frantically to us to join him.

be told the tiger was sitting

when he

started beckoning
to him, only to

We hurried over

up and was very much alive. I

did my best to climb that tree to join him, but it was devoid
of branches to lay hold of, and I could not climb with my toes
like the others. With much pushing and shoving the shikaris
eventually managed to get me up to the lowest branch, and
from there I succeeded in pulling myself up a bit higher, and
at last reached a position from which I could see the tiger. He
was sitting up on his haunches like a dog, swaying from side
to side. I felt so insecure without any foothold in the tree that
I discarded my '405 in favour of my little -351 Winchester,
and with this I hit the tiger in the neck. He collapsed immediately.

The tiger was a magnificent specimen, with a wonderful ruff

which added splendour to his enornious head. That he was very
old was borne out by the fact that his teeth were badly worn
down, and he had the drooping side-locks like the "Dundreary
whiskers'* once so popular with our great grandsires (worn only

His skin, with head mounted, still

Patriarchs).
on the wall of a room dedicated to
of
honour
a
place
occupies
the
earliest
snarling
image of Kipling's immortal
trophies,
my
"Shere Khan", who, like him, had trodden the jungietp%<fi\by

by Tiger

56

CALL OF THE TIGER

the Wcinganga River, but unlike him, had not indulged in

lifting bullocks out of bullock carts, to eat them snarling
savagely by the roadside, while their terrified owners shrieked
in horror, and ran like squirrels up the nearest trees
This old tiger won my admiration over one thing
!

when

mortally wounded, he never uttered a sound.

even

CHAPTER

IV

A VERY DANGEROUS RIFLE

THERE is always a thrill about the day of arrival in the jungles.
because the much-looked-forward-to day has
It is refreshing to feel that the bonds of civilization have been cast off, if only for the time being, and the sight

Perhaps

it

arrived at

is

last.

of the jungles stirs up many thoughts and

and adventure.

new hopes of expected

thrills

I had decided to spend my Christmas leave in the jungles,

and once again found myself with my aboriginal friends at
Lamta.

did not have to wait long for a thrill. A few hours after my
arrival, I set out on foot, with my trackers Darbari and Saktu,
for the hills three miles away, mainly with the object of looking
for tiger tracks. We chatted as we went along, for there was
little hope of meeting any game, but when we reached a small
jungle village at the foot of the hills, our attention was attracted
by the alarm cries of grey monkeys, on a small hill about three
hundred yards away. There was no mistaking from the oft
I

Quite
repeated cries that they were greatly perturbed.
obviously they were being upset by some carnivorous enemy.
Grey monkeys, (langurs), are the most reliable informants of
all jungle animals.
They seldom make a mistake and never
give a false alarm. My trackers ran into the village to borrow
a goat, but the goats had all been sent out to graze, and, to my
dismay, Darbari returned with a thin dun-coloured village
dog. I am a dog-lover, and did not fancy the idea of using a
dog as a bait, but the shikaris assured me it was the only animal
available, and begged me to hurry, or the great chance would
be gone. We ran to the foot of the hill with the dog. The
monkeys were still cursing loudly, and we looked round
hurriedly to find a spot for our ambush.
Just inside the forest, hidden from view of the village, was a
small clearing, surrounded by dense jungle. It was just the
very place we were looking for. Darbari and I hid ourselves
behind a bamboo clump, while Saktu tied the dog to a tree
57

CALL OF THE TIGER

58

stump, about twenty-five yards from us, on the other side

of the clearing. Having tied the dog, Saktu ran for the
village.

Believing himself to be alone the dog started

efforts to free himself,

and while he was doing

making

frantic

this the jungles

resounded to the full-throated roar of a leopard. This was more

than the dog could stand. He began uttering the most heartrending yells, and redoubled his efforts to free himself. Poor
devil! I did feel sorry for him, but he was playing his part
extremely well.
The next few moments were intensely exciting. The leopard
could not possibly have helped hearing the dog, and as dogs
fall an easy prey while chasing monkeys in the jungle, the
leopard would now leave the monkeys, and turn his attention
to the dog. There was no knowing, of course, which way the
leopard would come. When I looked round nervously, I was
horrified to find a rather attractive little pathway about a yard
I was just whispering to Darbari to keep a look
behind us
out in that direction, when the dog suddenly stopped jumping
about, and began staring fixedly at the jungle to our left. He
had spotted something we could not see, but he was quite right.
second or two later, out trotted a large leopard, but, instead
of making a dash for the dog, as I had expected, he seemed in
no hurry, and what was more, actually stopped in the middle
of the clearing to sum up the situation. He seemed astonished
That would have been the
that the dog had not run away
time to bowl him over, but the bamboos prevented me from
swinging my rifle. Then he lolloped forward leisurely towards
the dog. To make quite sure of getting in a good shot I
should have waited till he had seized the dog, but who could
possibly have resisted firing at such a desperate moment? The
leopard, with tail held high, was about to make the fatal
grab, when I fired quickly to save the dog's life. The leopard
!

made two

short quick jumps straight in the air, turning

towards us as he did so, and then raced past us, roaring as he
went by. It all happened so quickly that I did not have time
to reload my single barrel -405 Winchester. The leopard had
failed to see us, or he could have, and would have, made a
pretty good mess of us both.

Loud

now coming from the

would have been dangerous to move, and

grunts and growling noises were

jungle behind

us.

It

A VERY DANGEROUS RIFLE

59

we sat like mice waiting for the noises to cease. When they did,
we crept out of our hiding place, and crossed over to release
Like ourselves, he too had maintained a discreet
but now he was overjoyed to see us, and it did not take
him many seconds to cover that furlong back to the village.
Darbari and I followed slowly, and presently were joined by
Saktu. Then we all sat down to wait a while, before starting

the dog.
silence,

the dangerous job before us.

We had been greatly puzzled by the leisurely way the leopard

had attacked the dog. Normally leopards rush in to seize their
prey. Perhaps he had already killed and eaten a monkey, and
was therefore in no immediate hurry to obtain food.
Half an hour later we returned to the clearing to pick up the
For about twenty yards there was no blood, but, after
that, there were a few patches here and there, and finally a
large patch and a piece of broken bone. This was where the
leopard had sat down, and frightened us with his grunting and
growling. Beyond this spot, however, there was no blood trail
whatsoever. In the circumstances it was extremely difficult to
trail.

make any headway, and, although we continued to search

it was nearly dark, we failed to come up with the leopard
that day. Next morning not more than fifty yards from where
we had left off the previous evening we found him lying dead.
The bullet had hit rather low, but had smashed his right
until

shoulder.

few evenings later,

And now, behold the hand of Fate
while returning with a party of men along a jungle road, the
little dun-coloured dog was whipped off by a leopard, never
to be seen again.
A day or two later I was standing on a little hillock near the
Forest Bungalow, scanning the edge of the forest with my
!

when I spied two figures emerging from the jungle,

about a mile away. They were stepping out briskly. This was
unusual, because the jungle folk seldom hurry, though I must

field-glasses,

They
say their normal swinging gait is very misleading.
cover the ground much faster than you would imagine, and to
realize this you should try walking with them. You will find
yourself having to step out.

When they came

nearer and I was able to recognize

my two

must
have happened. True enough, when they reached camp they

trackers I instinctively guessed that something important

CALL OF THE TIGER

6O

were smiling all over their faces, and announced that a tiger
had killed a bait about five miles away.
It was then about ten o'clock.
After collecting all the
paraphernalia required for such an occasion, we started off with
the least possible delay.
It was a hot walk out, in spite of the fact that it was nearly
Christmas. Before getting to the kill we were met by the men
who had tied out the buffalo bait, and they led us to a stream
to show us the tracks of the tigress, who, after quenching her
thirst there, had followed the jungle road for two miles, leading
to the kill. Judging by the size of the tracks, she was a very large
tigress.

On arrival at the kill, I was disappointed to find it lying by

the side of the road, uneaten. Its neck had been broken in
approved tiger fashion, and the fang marks in the neck muscles
behind the ears left no doubt that the deed had been done by
a tiger. It was strange, however, that the carcass had not been
touched, and the only conclusion we could come to was that
the tigress must have killed at dawn, and been disturbed by
people using the road, before she had had time to feed.
The jungle on both sides of the road was very dense, and as
there was no knowing where the tigress could have gone to lie
up for the day, we decided it would be useless trying to catch
her in a beat. Sitting up over the kill was the only alternative,
but the fact that the kill had been abandoned did not make
this too hopeful either. However, as there was a suitable tree
only a few yards away, I ordered the shikaris to start putting

up a machan.
was now about one o'clock, and the whole jungle seemed
asleep. While the men were putting up the machan, I selected
a nice cool spot a few yards away, and settled down to some
sandwiches. My presence there would ensure that the men
worked in silence. I regret to say that even some of the best
shikaris do not observe the golden rule of silence while tying up
a machan. But machan-tying is an exasperating job which
demands real skill in climbing trees, hanging on to branches
like monkeys while doing the tying, and great patience to
keep
one's temper. The two or three helpers always have their own
ideas about how it should be done. And it is difficult to refrain
from ticking them off when they do everything the wrong way.
Now I was being highly amused by the antics of the three or
It

A VERY DANGEROUS RIFLE

6l

four gentlemen struggling with the small string bed, poised

precariously aloft in the branches of the tree. Scowls and angry
but silence
gesticulations
Suddenly the peaceful silence of the jungle was broken by
the most piercing screams of a pig in distress. It is difficult to
describe in words this particular kind of noise, but once heard
it cannot be forgotten. It was so loud and so near that it caused
consternation amongst my men, who apparently recognized
the full meaning of what they were hearing. The men in the
tree scrambled hastily down to the ground, and, to my astonish!

lives.
Why they should have
the safety of the tree to do this I could not
shikaris hurried towards me, crouching low

ment, began running for their

come down from

understand. The

as they peered into the jungle in the direction of the noise.

In

breathless gasps they told me the tiger was killing a wild pig,
and that it would therefore not return to* our dead buffalo.

Much
tiger.

against the advice of the shikaris, I decided to stalk the

I set off in the direction of

Followed closely by Darbari,

the screams.

For about half a minute the screams continued, and then

ended as abruptly as they had begun. Darbari and I had slunk
forward about a hundred yards, and must have been within
forty yards of our quarry when the noises ceased. The grass was
waist-high, and the jungle very dense. Without any noise to

we had to move very cautiously, with every nerve

and eyes and ears wide open!
Eventually, while
a
from
small
towards
which
we hoped to get
hillock,
creeping
a better view, Darbari stopped to test the wind.
He was
dust
his
some
to
do this,
through
trickling
powdered
fingers

guide us
strained

when suddenly both of us caught sight of the tiger across a small

shallow nullah, only about fifteen yards away. It was standing
broadside on, with its flanks still heaving through its recent exertions. Its head and shoulders were behind a bamboo clump, and
it was quite oblivious of our presence. I was so overjoyed when I
saw this wonderful chance that I quickly raised my old '405,

aimed for a lung shot and fired. The tiger "Woofed" twice,
and bounded away. To my dismay, a small sapling, between
me and the tiger, fellin half, cut through by my bullet
I raced to the little hillock, hoping to get it* another shot, but
the tiger had disappeared. Some animal did dash through the
grass, but strangely enough this was not in the direction the
!

CALL OF THE TIGER

62

Mad with rage and disappointment, I

tiger had taken.
returned to the dejected Darbari, whose looks spoke the words
he dared not utter. What a frightful mess I had made of the
whole thing I must have been blind with excitement not to
have noticed the small sapling in the way
Very despondently Darbari and I now crossed over the
small nullah to where the tiger had been standing, and there,
behind the bamboo clump, lay an enormous wild boar, stone
dead. This so delighted my pork-eating companion that he
practically whooped with joy, and immediately called out to
Saktu and the others to join us quickly. They arrived with
looks of apprehension on their faces, but when they saw the
dead boar, their faces too lit up with joy. Bless that pig The
loss of the tiger now seemed a matter of complete inconsequence! Darbari and Saktu most graciously pointed to the
wounds the splinters of my bullet had made in the pig, and
not only in the pig but in several bamboos and another tree as
A truly marvellous shot Closer examination of the
well
boar, however, disclosed that one hind leg had been broken
just above the hock, and that the back of his neck had been
bitten through by the tiger. To my mind, the cause of his
death was not in the least due to any part I had taken in the
!

proceedings
When the excitement subsided, we decided to form a line
and walk through the grass to look for traces of blood from the
tiger.* Actually, we could hardly have expected to find any,
and we undertook to do this more in fun than in earnest. It
felt more like looking for a snipe than a tiger, but before we
had gone many yards there was a yell of fright from Saktu, who
turned and bolted back. And no wonder For there, under a
tree, only a few yards ahead, lay the tiger. We could hardly
believe our eyes. It looked like a tiger lying asleep. I stopped
to satisfy myself it was not breathing, and then advanced to!

wards it with my rifle at the ready, being begged by all not to

do so. But the tiger really was quite dead. There was no
bullet mark on it anywhere, but it was still bleeding from its

mouth and

nose.

Well, that was that, but Darbari was not fully satisfied. He
had heard the noise of that other animal dashing away, and
now insisted on going over to investigate. To allay the fears
and suspicions of the readers of this story, I must say at once

A VERY DANGEROUS RIFLE

63

that we did not expect to find another tiger lying dead

No,
Darbari merely wanted to clear up the mystery of the noise
we had heard. He argued that no jungle animal would have
stood there while the tigress was killing the boar and there must
have been another tiger. Though we were unable to find any
clue to solve the mystery I personally think Darbari was
right and it must have been another tiger. It is well known that
a big boar such as this one can stand up to a single tiger, and
quite often get the better of the exchanges. This boar had been
rooting about near the bamboo clump, and I rather fancy one
tiger had broken his leg, hamstringing him, while the tigress
!

seized him by the neck. The other tiger probably spotted

us approaching and slunk away, leaving the tigress to her fate.
Our entry into camp that evening, with the very large
tigress on one bullock cart and the enormous boar on another,

had

was triumphal. I sent to the village of Lamta for a four gallon

drum of the most vicious toddy, and I need hardly say that "A
very happy evening was enjoyed by all". Prohibition in those
days was unknown
When we skinned the tigress next morning, we found a
splinter of my bullet, no bigger than an air-gun slug, embedded
!

in her heart.

When

a tiger

distances to see

it.

is

killed,

When

hundreds of people come long

they catch sight of the

tiger,

they fold

hands in pious reverence, then step forward, and, bowing

low, touch its paws with their hands. Others, specially the
old and decrepit, come to beg a little tiger fat, which is
considered an excellent remedy for rheumatism. Amongst the
assembled crowd, I was surprised to see my old friend Jirroo
of Kanaheri, who had just walked seven miles to tell me a very
large tiger, apparently an old acquaintance and regular visitor,
had arrived back in his jungles. Darbari and Saktu welcomed
the news. They knew the old tiger too, but said he had once
been wounded over a buffalo kill, and now absolutely refused to
touch a buffalo bait.
Early next morning we set out, with the day's provisions in
our haversacks, prepared to walk the fourteen miles there and
back, and ready to spend the day in making our reconnaissance.
Our luck was in. After scouting round for an hour or two
their

we came

across fresh pug-marks of the extra large variety,

leading into a patch of jungle which the shikaris said was a

CALL OF THE TIGER

64

deathtrap for any tiger in a beat. All that remained to be

to persuade the old tiger to take a bait.
My suggestion to tie out a pig was turned down by Darbari.
Tigers love pork, but, Darbari argued, it would be useless
unless I agreed to sit up over the live bait. Such a large tiger

done now was

would finish off any pig, however big, at one sitting, and that
would be a shameful waste of good money and good pig It
would mean sitting up all night, in hopes that the tiger would
pass that way, whereas he might not come that way again for
several nights. No, it would be quite useless to tie out anything
!

but a large animal.

For religious reasons, tying out a bullock was taboo, but
what other large animal could we possibly find? The shikaris

began an earnest conversation in their own dialect, which was

Greek to me, and I could not understand what they were saying
to each other.
Presently, however, they turned to me and
asked permission to visit the nearest village, to see what they
could find. I agreed and sat down on a jungle road to await
their return.

couple of hours later, with broad smiles, they returned,

leading a mule. What a dilapidated hat-rack he was; every
rib and practically every bone of his emaciated body was
protruding. It would have delighted the heart of any Veterinary

Army to mark him "C & D" (Cast and Destroy).

and completely worn out. On seeing him I
old
very
told the shikaris I did not think any self-respecting tiger would
Officer in the

He was

my remark seriously, they both explained

would
absolutely love to eat him
Anyway, as
any tiger
there was still quite some time to spare, we allowed the old
moke to graze. How he managed to do even this was difficult
to understand, as his teeth were completely worn down. * It
stunned me I should have to pay a fabulous price for such a
touch him. Taking
that

bag-o'-bones
I had always hated the idea of tying out a live bait. To me it
seemed grossly unfair. I argued with myself that it was a
practice that had come down through the ages, and was the
accepted means of baiting tigers, but I disliked it all the same.
The first time I sat up over a live goat, the wretched thing
bleated so pitifully that I got down from my tree, untied it, and
led it home, much to the disgust of my shikaris Now, hardened
by experience, I watched the old moke being tied to the stake.
!

A VERY DANGEROUS RIFLE

65

Here I must explain that tigers, unlike lions, hunt by sight

and hearing, and have practically no sense of smell, rutting
out a dead bait is quite useless. It would have to be in a high
state of decomposition before a tiger would realize it was there.
This is an undoubted drawback, which leaves one with no
other alternative except the live bait. Many have argued that
this is not as cruel as it seems, and that the end justifies the
means, for it brings to book a tiger, who kills thousands of
animals during his career. Nevertheless it is a practice of which
I have never really approved.

At dusk we

tied

him

to

a tree stump and as .we turned to

return to camp, the monkeys on a nearby hill could be heard

shrieking their curses at some hated foe.
When a scout went out in the morning, the old mule was

gone. The rope was broken and there was blood, a drag, and
the tracks of a big tiger in the sand.
Accompanied by the shikaris I hurried to the spot. Very
eagerly we followed the drag, which for the first hundred yards
followed the course of a dry river-bed, but then the cunning old

had dragged

up a steep bank into some very tall

followed the drag some little distance into
this tall grass, until my heart failed me.
Monkeys in the
in
the
alarm cries
were
their
vicinity
sitting
treetops, uttering
Beware
!
Beware
from time to time. Tiger
!
Tiger
the
old
near
at
was
hand, and, might easily
Obviously,
tiger
have turned nasty. Abandoning the idea of finding the kill
also meant abandoning the idea of sitting up over it, which for
economic reasons would have suited me better. There was no
alternative now but to have a beat.
Three or four men were sent post haste to the neighbouring
v^JJages to collect beaters, but returned a couple of hours later
to say it was market day and everyone had gone to the bazaar
at Lamta eight miles away. No one was expected back much
before four o'clock in the afternoon. This was shattering news
At about three o'clock, however, beaters started assembling,
arriving in twos and threes, until by about four o'clock we had
collected over a hundred men. Darbari now split them into
tiger

elephant grass.

his kill

keeping about forty-five men as "stops", and

In silence the beaters were
and
we then started putting the
their
starting line,
placed on
on
flank
the
of
the beat, following a line
trees
right
stops up

two

parties,

reserving the rest for the beat.

CALL OF THE TIGER

66

up to my machan, which was in the apex of a wide

"V", and Darbari then led the remaining stops along the other
flank, putting the stops up trees one by one until he joined up
with the beaters, thus completely ringing in the tiger. It was
the first time I had seen this done and was most interested.
When all was ready it was Darbari's duty to give the first shout
leading

as a signal for the beat to begin.

Unfortunately for me, the men

who had been entrusted with

putting up my machan had placed it only about seven feet
from the ground, well within easy reach of an angry tiger, and
now, at the eleventh hour, there was no time to make any
alterations.

While I was waiting alone for the beat to begin, a leopard

began roaring on the hill behind me. He roared three or four
times, but his was the only voice disturbing the jungles. And
then suddenly Darbari's signal heralded an outburst of fiendish
yelling that literally shook the jungles. The beat had begun.

What a

wonderful sound! I waited feeling almost sick with

excitement. But hardly had the beaters uttered more than a
few yells, when I heard the quick "Tap
Tap Tap !" of a
on
followed
almost
my right,
immediately by the next, and
stop
and
then
a
enormous
the next,
truly
tiger appeared, coming
over a small knoll about thirty yards in front of me. He was
moving at a brisk walk, and, although I had been warned by
experienced hunters never to fire at a tiger in a beat until he
was abreast of the machan, I was too excited to wait, and when
he was about twenty yards away I drew a bead on his shoulder
!

and

fired.

The

sprang like a flash into the nullah between us, and

reappeared a second later coming obliquely towards me. I
had tried to reload, but my very old single barrel -405 rifle had
jammed. And now there was the tiger standing only about five
yards from me. He was in a towering rage, and with every
nerve tensed and every muscle braced, was looking for his
assailant, but, by the Grace of God he did not see me. Beside
me in the machan was my shotgun, loaded with spherical ball,
but I knew instinctively that if I moved even a finger the tiger

would

tiger

see

me and

instantly tear

me

to pieces.

If

my

rifle

had

not jammed I could have shot him through the head. As it was
I could do absolutely nothing. He must have stood there right
in front of me for two or three seconds, but to me it seemed like

A VERY DANGEROUS RIFLE

half an hour.

Fortunately for

me,

67

at that precise

moment a

"stop" on my left suddenly lost his nerve, and decided to

scramble a bit higher up his tree. This movement immediately
caught the tiger's eye. With a roar of rage he bounded forward,
leaving me still trembling with the useless rifle in my hands.
What followed was a wonderful display of rage. Roaring
furiously he sprang at the man in the tree, but fortunately did
not reach him. Then, still roaring with rage, he broke back
at full gallop towards the beaters, disappearing into the jungle
without giving me the chance of another shot. I shouted till I
nearly burst my lungs, trying to warn the beaters. Fortunately
all had climbed up trees.
When Darbari arrived a few minutes later, his experienced
eye immediately traced the exact line the tiger had taken in
coming towards me. Standing in front of me where the tiger
had stood he said, "Where's the tiger?" I told him I thought
I had missed. "But," said he, "how could you possibly have
missed? The tiger was here, where I am standing now, only a

few feet from you !" When I explained what had happened
and how my rifle had jammed, he fairly fumed with rage, and
told me in the plainest language what a fool I was to keep on
using such a rotten old rifle. And then, calming down a bit, he
"Sahib, I cannot understand

why the tiger did not kill

completely at his mercy." Never in my life
had I been so ticked off by a jungly hunter, but I realized
there was truth, and nothing but truth in every word he had

said,

You were

you.

Hitherto, remembering always the saying about bad

carpenters, I had refrained from blaming the old rifle, but

said.

Darbari was right. Had I not in his presence missed the first
shot at a huge tiger on the banks of the Weinganga, and then
nttKie a low shot at a leopard, and again hit a sapling instead of
a tigress? And now I had missed a huge tiger a few yards away
truly shocking record! Considering I had been chosen to
shoot at Bisley for my school, and was still considered a marksman in my Regiment, there did seem to be something wrong
somewhere. I promised faithfully never to use that rifle again.
!

My

shot, followed
tiger and the beaters.
to the treebelter
the
beaters
skelter
the
had
sent
roaring
by
he
back.
after
broke
had
the
seen
said
they
tiger
Many
tops
While some said he was wounded and leaning over to one side,

But to return to the

!

others said he

was moving normally. This had

to

be checked

CALL OF THE TIGER

68

we

ordered the beaters back to a rendezvous, while the

and I proceeded to follow up the trail to look for blood.
There was none. The tiger had escaped unscathed. The sun
had set and darkness was overtaking us.
It was Christmas day next day, and I had organized an entertainment for that evening. A man had gone to Jabalpur for
fireworks, cartloads of firewood had been purchased for a bonfire, and gallons of toddy had arrived from Lamta. The stage
was set and a general invitation had been issued to all my
jungly friends. But the best laid plans of mice and men often
go awry. I was having my afternoon tea when a man ran in to
tell me that a tiger had killed a bison. He did not seem to know
full details, but apparently a woman from his village two miles
away had been out gathering wood in the forest and had come
across the kill. This was wonderful news. I set off at once.
up, so

shikaris

On arrival at the village a young aboriginal woman confirmed

the story, and to my surprise, even volunteered to guide us to
the kill. She then said the kill was a bison calf.
She was only about four feet high. I felt like a giant walking
behind her as she led the way. Before entering the jungle she
skirt to look rather like a pair of shorts, and
her
cloth
head-dress, wound it round her waist. It
discarding
was an eye-opener to me how she picked her way for a mile or
more through the dense jungle, moving as silently as a cat and
led us straight to the very spot. On arrival there we were
greeted with a terrific snort, and, before we could recover from
the shock were nearly swept off our feet by a charging bison. It
was the mother of the calf, keeping guard over her dead baby.
Actually, I do not believe she meant to charge us seriously.
She swerved off at the last moment, and did not repeat the
charge, but she certainly succeeded in giving us no end ofra

hitched

up her

fright!

excitement over, we looked all round for the dead

it nowhere. It had been removed from where
our girl guide had last seen it. There was a good deal of blood
but no calf. To our astonishment we found it eventually about
ten feet from the ground, hanging in the fork of a tree. It was
a very young calf and must have been killed, while on its own,
probably when its mother had gone to drink at a neighbouring

This

little

calf but could find

pool or stream.
It

was getting

late

and our guide asked permission

to go.

A VERY DANGEROUS RIFLE

69

When I thanked her, and pressed a couple of silver rupees into

her hand, she bowed her thanks, and without more ado, started
running towards the village, through that dark dense jungle all
alone. Do not think that we were being unchivalrous. It would
have been an unforgivable breach of jungle etiquette to send
a man to escort her home.
A closer examination of the bison calf and other clues convinced us that the killer was a leopard. It looked as though
the cow bison had returned soon after the calf had been killed,
and had chased the leopard away before he had had time to
eat more than a very small portion of his kill. Then, I imagine,
the leopard had lured her away from the dead calf, by showing
himself at a safe distance and inviting her to chase him, which
Then he had slunk back, and
apparently she had done.
the calf in his mouth into the fork of a tree, a
remarkable feat of strength, for the calf must have weighed
about a hundred and fifty pounds.
We were now confronted with the problem of getting rid of
the old bison who would otherwise remain in the vicinity and
do her best to keep the leopard away. It would have been

jumped with

extremely unsporting to shoot her, and the shot would in any

case have scared the leopard away. The best solution would
have been a goat, but the village was too far off to get a goat in

The sun was about to set, and we were up against time.

Finally we pulled the calf out of the tree, and dragged it
about a hundred yards into a clearing, where we pegged it
down to a wooden stake, hoping that the leopard would follow
up the drag. A rough perch of branches was hastily put up in
a tree for me to sit on, and when this had been well camouflaged
with leafy branches, I took up my position and the others
time.

departed, talking loudly, hoping to impress the leopard that

everyone had gone away.

The sun had

darkness soon enshrouded the jungle.

Two hours rolled slowly by.

My

set

and complete

were aching with

absolutely still, and the rough
cramp through having
branches I was sitting on were making life seem hideous. There
had been no sounds of conflict between the bison and leopard.
to

legs

sit

I could see absolutely nothing in the pitch darkness of the

night, and wondered whether the leopard would have enough

sense of smell to follow the drag, or whether I was just sitting

there like a fool, while a bonfire, fireworks,

and

my guests were

CALL OF THE TIGER

70

probably waiting for me to return. I had almost decided that

I could bear my tortures no longer when I heard the rattle of
a piece of wood being dragged along the ground. Pointing my

gun in the direction of the kill, I switched on my torch. The calf

was gone In dismay I swung the light from side to side, and,
to my joy, found the leopard a few yards away to the left,
sitting quite calmly with the calf in his mouth. The torch did
not seem to worry him in the very least, and he gave me an
!

extremely easy shot. I used a "Lethal" bullet from my shotgun,

and he never moved an inch in fact, he did not even release
his hold, but died with the calf in his mouth.
Hearing my shot my men soon arrived, and in a few minutes
we were all racing back to camp, complete with leopard. Over
a hundred guests had arrived. The bonfire was lit, the toddy
passed round, and then came the fireworks, the likes of which
had never been seen before by my very simple friends. The
rockets and Catherine-wheels thrilled them, but the crowning
joy of all was a spark-emitting grenade, which got going too
quickly, and went scooting along the ground into the midst of
;

who up and fled in all directions. The joy this

caused was phenomenal!
Darbari and Saktu had never seen a town, and asked me to
take them with me to Jabalpur next day. I was on the Headquarters Staff there, and, on my return, found it had fallen to
my unfortunate lot to write the orders for the big New Year's
Day Parade. This used to be one of the biggest ceremonial
functions of the year, at which all troops in the garrison took
the spectators,

After being inspected in Review Order, units marched

the
Saluting Base, in order of their Army precedence, while
past
Massed Bands played their Regimental marches, and big guns
boomed a salute. While drafting orders for this ceremony, the
Devil entered my soul. I ordered something that had never
part.

been done in Jabalpur before. I ordered the Cavalry to reform

marching past, and with squadrons in line, to gallop past

after

the Saluting Base

On the great day, Darbari and Saktu, looking very selfconscious in the new khaki clothes I had provided, were escorted
by Baloo to the special enclosure near the Saluting Base. There,
!

for the first time in their lives, they saw troops on parade,
heard big guns booming, and heard a military band. They
told me afterwards they had no idea there was a large and

A VERY DANGEROUS RIFLE

71

But the thing that impressed them

Army
most was the Cavalry Charge
What the Cavalry Officers said later about my orders does
not bear repeating. I received their caustic remarks in humble

"wonderful

in India.

and in all humility expressed the opinion that the

Charge had been excellently executed No one ever knew that
the Lancers, with pennants flying, had galloped past purely for
the benefit of two insignificant little aborigines from the remote

silence,

jungles of

Lamta

Just a word about

my old -405 rifle. I had bought it second

hand for sixty Rupees The previous owner had assured me it
was accurate, and I had taken his word for it, with the result
that it nearly cost me my life, A test on the rifle range later
!

proved that fifty per cent of the shots went very wide of the
mark. The barrel was very worn. The mechanism was very
worn too, which accounted for the rifle jamming. It should
have been scrapped long ago.
MORAL never go after dangerous game with a rifle you have
:

not tested yourself.

an old saying, "You can't buy humming birds for

fourpence!" I had no ground for complaint. I had bagged
two tigers and a leopard with the old rifle, and it had provided

There

thrills

is

that

money could not buy

CHAPTER* V

THE SIWALIKS
FIRST adventures in the jungles had taught me a few very
important lessons. I had learnt, for instance, that the friendship
of the jungle people was well worth cultivating, and that an
unreliable rifle is a dangerous thing. I had begun to realize
also that failures had been due to my own stupidity, or sometimes to gross ignorance, and successes, such as they were, had
been due more to good luck than good judgment. Actually,
everything had happened in a haphazard sort of way, until that
which, although the tiger escaped, was really the first
well-organized bit of hunting that had come my way. I had
shot my first leopard over a goat that had been killed by
chance, and my first tiger in a small game beat. All the other
encounters had been either partly or wholly unplanned. But
the last tiger beat had been planned from A to Z, from the
tying out of the bait to the shot that finally missed him, and I
realized as I had not done before, that there was, after all, an
art in the handling of tigers. For this lesson I owed my friends
Darbari and Saktu a debt of deep gratitude.
But it was just then that Fate was unkind to me. I was
whisked away from the land of green jungles and tigers to the
The ever-faithful Baloo
land of barren hills and Pathans.
went with me, and accompanied me to the northernmost outpost of Chitral. Three incidents remain fixed in my memory.
The first, when Baloo saw a small crowd near our gate in
Nowshera. Full of curiosity, he went to investigate, but ran
woman had
back into the house with his eyes popping out.
had her throat cut, and the body was lying in a drain by the
last beat,

roadside.

The second, when Pathan snipers fired into our camp

and Baloo dashed into my tent looking terrified. I

ordered him to extinguish the lantern, and get down on the
floor with his head between two yak-dans (small leather trunks).
This was Baloo's first baptisjn of fire And the third, when he
went to the dhobi with my ironing, and a Pathan relieved him
of my new bicycle a three-speed B.S.A. But poor Baloo was
at night,

72

THE SIWALIKS

73

not happy in that strange land, so far

away from his own
native heath. Very sadly I realized it was unkind of me to
go

on keeping him there and eventually I sent him back to the

peaceful sunny south, to where he really belonged.
The nearest tiger jungles were several hundred miles away,
though even these, situated in the Siwalik Hills, foothills of the
Himalayas, were only about half-way to my beloved Balaghat.

Somehow

or other
I

my duties

longed to get

kept

me

tied to the Frontier, and,

away,
buying a
a -470 Cordite double barrelled hammerless,
belonging to a friend, who was going home to England on retirement.
How I longed to try it out on a tiger
When at long last the chance came, I found myself at Kasumri, a delightful spot in the Siwalik Hills. It was the beginning
of November, and the jungle grass was still
high after the
monsoon. It seemed wonderful to find myself in green jungles
once again. The Forest Bungalow was perched on top of a
spur, not far from the Forest Motor road, which skirted the foot
of the long range of hills for several miles, and formed the
boundary line between the Reserved Forests and the fields of
the Plains below.
The front veranda overlooked a wide
boulder-strewn dried up water-course, known as a "Rao" in
that part of the world. The hills above and beyond were
very
thickly wooded, and the forests were full of deer, specially large
herds of chital (spotted deer), who raided the fields at night,
and returned to the sanctuary of the Reserved Forest by day.
The alarm cries of the deer, and occasionally the roar of a
tiger or leopard could be heard from the bungalow at nights,
and, by day, one could sit in an easy chair on the front veranda,
and watch the chital browsing on the opposite hillside, while
proud peacocks strutted across the open river-bed of the Rao.
although

good

I only got as far as

rifle,

The inhabitants of the villages bordering the Forest were

very different to the aborigines of Balaghat. They were keen
agriculturists and depended more on their fields than the
jungles for their food.

They were more independent and

more com-

sophisticated, and, unfortunately, took rather a

mercial view of the jungle produce and of a visiting sportsman.

But the biggest snag of all was a Forest rule forbidding the
shooting of a tiger after dark. It all seemed strange and very
different to what I had been used to. However I was lucky, and
soon made friends with Abhu, the local shikari, a quiet old

CALL OF THE TIGER

74

man, who knew the jungles

well,

and knew how

to entice

tiger into a beat.

Without much loss of time three baits were put out in different
directions at places selected by Abhu, but, as often happens,
we were not too successful for a start. tigress visited one of the

make a kill. Someand even circled the

became a standing joke to

baits every night, but never attempted to

times she sat down a short distance away,

but never would she take it. It

hear the shikari tell the same tale day after day. He, poor
chap, began feeling quite annoyed about it, and begged me to
sit up one night and finish the tigress off, but, as sitting up at

bait,

night was forbidden, I refused to do so.

One morning Abhu greeted me with a broad smile on his
face.
"You don't mean to tell me she has killed at last?" I
asked hopefully. "No," said he, "she has not killed, but she is
roaring on the hill above, and
be able to shoot her."

if you

come now, you will perhaps

I looked at my watch. It was just after nine o'clock, and it

would have taken us about an hour to get there, too late to
catch her before she retired to some dense jungle to lie up for the

day.

We

decided, therefore, to leave the matter over

till

the

afternoon.

Just before three o'clock I left the bungalow with Abhu and
two men, but before we had gone very far, we heard men calling
after us. Looking round I saw three of my camp followers, who
had never been in the jungles before, and now wanted to
accompany us. They said they wanted to see a tiger. I did
not think there was really much chance of our seeing one, but
they seemed so keen that I agreed.
When we reached the spot where the bait had been tied,
Abhu pointed out the tracks of the tigress. The spot had been
well chosen, being near the junction of a jungle track and a
nullah. The bait had been tied close to dense cover, and the
shikari assured me it had been tied by the foreleg, so really
there was nothing to be said against the arrangements he had
made to procure a kill. In a deep ravine about a hundred yards
further on, the tigress had been up and down so often, that
there were literally dozens of her pug-marks in the sand.
Beyond the ravine the hill rose steeply for about seven hundred
feet, and Abhu pointed to the top, to show where the tigress had
been calling in the morning.

THE SIWALIKS

75

We started up the hill, but soon found ourselves in difficulties.

The whole
their

was covered in yellowish spear-grass, about

and the sharp pointed little spear-heads worked

hillside

waist high,

way through our

remove the

spikes.

It

clothes, forcing us to stop frequently to

was with a sigh of relief that

eventually

reached the summit.

From here there was a wonderful view. The hillside we had
just scaled was bare and open, but just over the ridge there was
a dense jungle which was specially dense in a deep nullah
about two hundred yards below us, and which, by its very looks,
proclaimed itself to be the ideal lying up place for a tiger. After
posting

my men

at various vantage points to

watch and

listen,

down

at the foot of a tree overlooking the dense nullah,

almost
which,
instinctively, I had chosen as the most likely
to
the
hold
place
tigress.
I sat

had not been

tigress roared,

more than about ten minutes, when the

than about two hundred yards below me.

there

less

roar brought the others immediately to my side. The

camp followers were dithering with fright.
Leaving them all to sit where they were, I started going
down the hill to try and stalk the tigress, who by now had
repeated her roar. Judging by some of the deep gasping noises

Her

three

she made occasionally,

her couch.

concluded she had not yet risen from

Things went very well for a start, but when I entered the
nullah, the grass and undergrowth were so thick that I could
hardly get along. It was impossible to see more than a few
feet ahead, and still more impossible to move forward without
making a certain amount of noise. However, the tigress kept
on roaring every few minutes, which was, of course, a very
considerable help to

found myself about

me

in keeping direction, and eventually I

thirty yards from her. Doing everything I

possibly could to avoid making the slightest noise, I crept

forward very slowly, hoping to catch her unawares. But the
roaring ceased, and presently I heard a kakur (barking deer)
give his alarm cry about a hundred yards further down the
nullah, followed a few seconds later by the belling of a sambur,

from which

I realized that the tigress

was on the move, going

away down the nullah towards the deep ravine below.

Whether she had heard me, or whether she had started
moving as part of her usual routine I shall never know, but I

CALL OF THE TIGER

76

the ridge, and

I felt the tigress
it, as apparently

$ow ran as fast as I could to get back on to

down into the ravine. At the back of my mind

would enter the deep ravine and then turn up

she was in the habit of using the ravine as a thoroughfare.

My dash down the steep hillside, waist deep in grass was

accomplished in a series of slips, skids and rolls, until at last I
reached the ravine, panting for breath. Had I stopped there
all would have been well, but I could not see more than a few
yards, and decided to go down a bit further to get a better
view. I was pretty worked up with excitement, and in my haste
slipped on a smooth rock, and landed with a bump in some soft
sand about twelve feet below. I had instinctively held my
rifle up to save it from damage, but in doing so had fallen
awkwardly and hurt my back. While struggling painfully to
get up, I was just in time to see the hindquarters and tail of
the tigress disappearing round the bend only a few yards ahead
of me. ... I ran forward, but she was gone. Tucked away
round the bend was a lovely fresh water pool, under an overhanging rock, and from the tracks and splashes of water it was
quite easy to re-construct what had taken place. The tigress
had reached the pool just before me, and must have been lying
down in the water, when I slipped and fell heavily in the ravine
round the corner. She had jumped out of the water, and seeing
me sprawling in the ravine, she had sprung up on to the rock

above, and disappeared.

I turned back up the ravine, and climbed painfully on to a
I had been there only a few
little knoll on the other side.
seconds when I saw my men running for their lives, coming
down the hillside in skids, rolls and toboggans, much as I had
done a few minutes earlier. Quite obviously their wish had
been granted and they had seen a tiger
When at last they recovered sufficiently to explain, they
said the tigress had suddenly fetched up where they were all
sitting huddled together in the grass. She had snarled at them
and lashed her tail so vigorously that they had taken to their
!

heels in a desperate bid to escape alive

There was nothing more to be said or

done about anything,

and we were just preparing to call it a day and wend our way
homewards, when, to our surprise, the tigress roared from the
She must have been at the top of
top of the hill again.
the

cliffs,

because the gural (Himalayan chamois) started

THE SIWALIKS

77

and presently three of them came dashing

towards us. Then a sambur belled and he too

sneezing their alarm,

down the hill

came crashing down

the

hill.

Every time the

tigress roared,

some animal bolted for its life, and presently there were more
animals on the move than one could ordinarily hope to see in
a beat. It was amazing to see how her roar struck terror into

Then the tigress herself appeared moving

the
leisurely along
top of the crest, about four hundred yards
I
raised
rifle
but changed my mind, as it was hardly
away.
my
worth the risk of wounding her at that long range. Instead, I
made another dash to try and get ahead of her again, but,
after scrambling over one or two spurs and through intervening
nullahs, I realized I could not possibly do it. The tigress too
all

these creatures.

seemed to have changed her course, and her roars grew fainter
and fainter, as she steadily increased the distance between us.
It was beginning to get dark when I turned to rejoin my men.
Imagine how I felt when I got back to find nobody there. It
was almost quite dark, and they had decamped with my torch.
After a hair-raising half hour, picking my way through the
dark jungle, I found them all sitting cosily together, round a
fire they had lit by the side of a Rao.
Apparently they had
hill towards them,
the
the
was
down
imagined
tigress
coming

and not being at all keen on another encounter, had got going
while the going was good.
Never before had I seen or heard a tigress behaving like this
one. The conclusion I came to was that she was looking for a
mate.
Next morning, news came in that the bait two miles up the
Kasumri Rao had been taken. Old Abhu was delighted. The
kill, he said, had been dragged into the famous Ulga beat, and
any tiger entering there had automatically entered a bottle. I

am using his own expression. Forty men were quickly collected

from the neighbouring villages, and soon after breakfast I
headed a procession moving up the Kasumri Rao towards the
kill.

The annual fair, known as the Skakumbra Debi Mela, had

been held there a couple of weeks earlier, and had, as usual,
been attended by thousands of Hindu devotees, visiting the
temples and shrines built in and around the Rao about a mile
from the Forest Bungalow. I have never actually seen this fair,
but I believe the Kasumri Rao, for a mile and a half of its

CALL OF THE TIGER

78

length, becomes a seething mass of humanity. Now in the dry

boulder-strewn bed of the Rao, hundreds and hundreds of
brown monkeys were moving about everywhere, turning over
the stones with their hands, and picking up the grains of rice

and gram, dropped by

careless shopkeepers during their

occupation of the Rao. As we neared the temples I handed
Abhu a couple of shining silver rupees to offer at the shrine,
for this, according to him, would ensure a lucky day.
For a mile or more beyond the temples, the Rao became

gradually narrower, and the hillsides to left and right became

steeper, until at last we rounded a bend, and, emerging from
the defile, entered a beautiful valley, surrounded by densely
wooded hills. About a furlong from the bend a jungle pathway
crossed the Rao, and here it was that the bait had been tied.
The tracks in the sand were those of a large male tiger, and the
kill

had been dragged

into "Abhu's bottle"

sure that only the most experienced men were

chosen as stops and that none of them had a cough. Remembering Darbari's lesson, I myself posted them in trees leading up
I

to

now made

my

position, while old

Abhu

took the responsibility for

posting the remainder beyond. There were not enough men

to guard every possible exit, so we used a few clothes arranged
on bushes to look like men and act as dummy stops.

had time to take stock of my

and could not help feeling
all
satisfied
with
arrangements made. One hundred and
fully
there
was a semi-detached hillock, which
to
front
my
fifty yards
me
and
the
beaters.
The hillside facing me was
between
lay
rather
and
descended
abruptly to a ravine,
sparsely wooded,
full of very tall grass. My position overlooked this ravine and
Sitting

on top of a small

cliff I

surroundings before the beat began,

commanded a good view of its approaches, while the hillside

below me, on my own side of the ravine, was steep and bare. I
could hardly have wished for a better place to sit in.
For the first few minutes of the beat nothing happened. The
voices of the beaters could scarcely be heard behind the
intervening hillock. Then, moving briskly with his head held
high, a tiger crossed over the top of the hillock in front. He
looked magnificent, and, even at that distance, I could see he
was a fine big male. He had cut obliquely across the hillock

from right to left and disappeared into the undergrowth. It

looked as though he was trying to break out of the beat through

THE SIWALIKS
the stops on

79

my
hope they would succeed in
him
into
the
beat
Not
a sound, however, came
turning
again.
from the stops, and, in the absence of any tapping by them, it
was difficult to know which way the tiger had gone. I expected
to see him reappear somewhere on my left, and looked out for
him in that direction, but as time went on, and the beaters
left.

I could only

began appearing over the crest, I began wondering if the tiger

had managed to escape out of old "Abhu's Bottle" after all
Just by chance I looked to my right, and there, sneaking along
very cautiously and slowly, with his belly almost touching the
ground, was the tiger, just outside the tall grass in the ravine.
When I fired at him he sank into a crouching position, and
remained absolutely stock still. I could not make out whether
he was dead or just lying doggo, so I fired again. When he did
not move I realized he was dead. Actually the first bullet had
!

'

killed

him.

>

.
t

He was

a big, heavily-built male in the prime of life, wit|t '<t

handsome
very
deep orange-coloured coat, much darker in
colour than the tigers I had shot in Madhya Pradesh. lp|Was
the first time I had used my -470 on a tiger, and I must say

me was quite amazing.

There was a nasty shock awaiting us

the result to

at the Forest Bungalow.

returned to find a host of clerks, servants, and camp
followers in possession of the place. All they said was that the

We

Collector Sahib was arriving that evening. As officials travelling

on duty had a prior claim to these bungalows, and, as I had no
tents with me, I had to pack up immediately and prepare to
depart. Fortunately there was another bungalow a few miles

away still within the limits of my shooting block, so I made a

bee line for Badshahi Bagh, to spend the remaining few days of

my

leave there.

day or two later a panther killed a goat. The tracks

showed that he was a big male. He had carried the goat off
without dragging it, and it took me nearly an hour to find the
kill, which had been carried about a furlong, and then hidden
under a thorn bush at the foot of a hill. I chose a suitable tree
for my machan and having shown my men exactly how I
wanted it put up, left them to do the rest.
That afternoon, my men having gone on ahead, I left the
bungalow alone, and was on my way to sit up for the panther,
when a villager in distress ran up to me and fell at my feet. He

CALL OF THE TIGER

8O
begged

me

to

go to

his house*

He was obviously very upset,

him what he wanted. "Sahib," he said,

so

want you
to do is to fire a shot at the wall outside." This did not seem
to make sense to me. I pointed out I was on my way to shoot
a panther, and the delay would probably spoil my chances, but
he wept bitterly, and assured me that God would reward me
and give me the panther, but that I must go with him to his
house. The poor man was in such earnest that I gave in, and,
in spite of the fact that his house was about a mile in the wrong
I asked

"all I

direction, I told him to lead the way. When we got there I

a shot into his outer mud wall. He ran into his house, and

fired

after a minute or two came out again and said, "Please fire one
more." I meekly complied. Then he went into the house
again, and presently returned, touched my feet and thanked
me. I went away feeling puzzled.
Soon after getting into my machan, I saw a small sparrowhawk perch himself on a small tree stump a few yards away. He
sat there motionless, awaiting his chance to pounce on some
stupid little birds that were foraging for worms in the leaves
a few yards from him. I was just wondering which one of them
he would catch first, when suddenly the birds and hawk all
flew into the trees, and an enormous panther glided past

moving on air. He moved like a phantom,

without making the slightest sound, his glossy coat shimmering
in the light and shade of the jungle. A few yards from the kill
he crouched and sat listening intently. I raised my rifle slowly
and shot him.
Later that evening I was able to unravel the mystery of the
villager. His wife was having a baby, and was in difficulties.
He had hoped my shots would help, but actually the scheme
had not worked. I immediately sent over such medicines as I
thought might help, but heard next morning that things were
just the same. I then offered to lend my car to take the woman
to a maternity hospital in Dehra Dun about fifty miles away.
At first this offer was refused, but good counsel prevailed, and,
eventually, the woman, wrapped in a quilt, and several of her
female relations were piled into the car, and, with the panther
noiselessly as if

tied on outside, left for Dehra Dun.

to take the woman to the hospital,

My driver had instructions

and then go on with the

panther to the local taxidermist. But, as things turned out, the
panther nearly caused a riot. When the car drew up outside

THE SIWALIKS

8l

the hospital, someone raised a shout that a man had been

mauled by a tiger, and in less time than it takes to tell, a huge
crowd had gathered and surrounded the car, making it quite

woman

out of the car into the hospital.

after a considerable delay, the
police intervention,
in a gasping condition.
woman
was
admitted
eventually
poor
I am glad to say, however, that her life was saved, and I heard
later that she had returned safely and happily to Badshahi

impossible to get the

With

Bagh.

and

PART

II

MORE ADVENTURES

CHAPTER

VI

NEW IDEAS
THRILLED THOUGH

had been with my experience of

the
Kasumri
rieeting
tigress, the idea of trying to imitate her
?oar would never have occurred to me, had it not been for a
'ucky coincidence. I was amazed one day to hear a tiger roaring
in the middle of Cantonments.
I stopped to listen.
Yes,
definitely, a tiger was roaring on the maidan. On inquiring I
was told that a travelling menagerie was encamped there, and,
I

have always had a weakness for visiting zoos and menwent over to the enclosure, whence the roaring came.
Laving paid an anna to go through the wicket, I was disappointed to find the tiger lying fast asleep, and, as there was
no other animal there capable of roaring, I turned to the man
in k harge and asked to see the tiger I had heard roaring. He
repled that the tiger was asleep, and pointed out the tiger I
had ^already seen. This, of course, was utter bunkum, so I
slipped him a note and said, "Show me the animal that was
roaring." He grinned and led me to the back of the cages,
where, hidden in an outsize packing case, was a small Indian
boy, with a wonderful contraption that made the most perfect
imitation of the full-throated roar of a tiger. The boy was
delighted with the four anna bit I gave him, and let me into all
his trade secrets, without which even the contraption would
have been quite useless in my hands. Never, by any stretch of
imagination, could I possibly have invented such an ingenious
instrument, but now, in the course of a few minutes, I had discovered something that would turn me into a tiger, and enable
I

,is

Aeries, I

me
to

to study other tigers,

my

My

and the reaction of all other animals

presence in the jungle. I was delighted.

first attempts to make a contraption of my

own were

not

too successful. It produced the most ghastly sounds, but not

the sounds I wanted ! The first time I tried it, terror-stricken

neighbours came out with their guns, and it is a wonder I was

not reported to the police. However, in time I improved the
design, and gradually mastered the gentle art of roaring. I now
85

GALL OF THE TIGER

86

ached

an opportunity

for

to test the efficiency of

my new

discovery.

The opportunity came at last, about five months later, whe i,

once again, I was fortunate enough to find myself at Kasumii.
I wasted absolutely no time about getting started. I went out
the very first evening with the tiger-call, and obtained t e
following results :
(1) All peafowl, and a kakur (barking deer) began calling
at once, and continued to do so every time I repeated my roa
(2) All men cutting wood and grass in the jungle called ou;
to warn each other, and a party of men, returning with bundle*!
.

of Bhaber grass, dropped their loads and took to trees, where

they remained for a couple of hours.
I had hoped a tiger would answer me from somewhere, but
this did not happen. I forgot to mention that when I arrived

Abhu

big hunting party had visited Kasumri jint

and they had greatly disturbed the jung e.
They had also had a tiger beat, and missed what Abhu described
as the biggest tiger he had ever seen in his life. It had b:en
caught in the famous Ulga beat, and in spite of several s'lots
fired, it had escaped unscathed.
Having borrowed the idea of the tiger-call from a mena r;erie,
I had used my own wits to construct something to imitate a
panther. On the following day I left the tiger-call at home and
set out in the evening to test my own invention. I called from
the same place, and, at first, had exactly the same results. The
peafowl and a kakur called and the men grazing cattle and
told

me^a

before I came,

goats in the jungle started shouting to get their animals together. After calling about half a dozen times, however, I was
answered by a panther from a hill across the Kasumri Rao. I

was

thrilled

with

this first success,

and so were the men with me.

The panther was answering

We could hardly believe our ears.

us call for call,

and was coming towards

us.

He

could not,

wide Rao in daylight, but continued

however,
to answer us from the other side. At dusk we went back to the
Forest Bungalow, and soon after we got back, he made use of
the darkness to cross the Rao, and called from the ridge above
us. I did not answer him, but he went on calling every few
minutes for about an hour. Eventually, tiring of this, he made
off along the ridge, calling as he went. When I called, he
raced back, and went on calling for another hour. It was a
cross over the

NEW

IDEAS

87

pitch dark night, and, as shooting by artificial light was

forbidden, I could not go after him, but, in the morning, I
found he had been scratching up the ground every few yards,

and had apparently been behaving in a most excited manner.

was evident he had been completely deceived.
In Africa, the most usual method of baiting a lion is to shoot
a zebra, cut it open, drag it some distance, and then leave it
out at night for the lion to find. That works well, because the
lion has a well-developed sense of smell, and his nose leads
him to the dead bait. The tiger, unfortunately, has the poorest

It

nose in the Indian jungle, his sense of smell being just about
equal to a human being's. The Indian leopard or panther has
a better nose, but even his is not as good as the lion's. Tigers

and panthers depend on their sight and hearing to procure

their food, and it is for this reason that the. usual means employed to attract them is a live bait. I had always disliked that
method, and now decided on a new plan. I shot a chital
stag, and had his entrails dragged along the ground for about
a furlong in two or three directions. Then I tied his forelegs
round the base of a sapling with strong rope, and, finally, just
before sun-down, called up with my panther-call.
Abhu was disgusted. He said it was a sin to feed such good

meat

way

to the jackals
No panther would come to that spot anyI promised to shoot him a pig to make up for the meat
!

he was

He

losing.

did not smile

The plan worked. Next morning we found

the big panther

No jackals had
had chosen a spot near a suitable tree, and
now ordered Abhu to put up my machan.
That evening I shot the big panther. I was particularly
pleased with these results, not so much because I had succeeded
in bringing the panther to a dead bait, but because I had drawn
him to an out-of-the-way place by calling him.
The next few days were without incident. Tigers seemed to
have deserted the Kasumri Shooting Block. Abhu and I
walked miles and miles, looking for tiger tracks, but in vain.

had discovered the

been near the

Baits

were

kill.

tied

stag,

and had a good

feed.

out in

all

the likely places but were not touched.

With only two days left of my leave, Abhu became quite

uneasy, and declared that, if nothing happened by the following morning, he would offer up a goat in sacrifice to the local
deity. Luck, however, was on the side of the goat. Next morn-

CALL OF THE TIGER

88

ing, we had hardly gone a mile from the bungalow, when we

came across fresh tracks of the big tiger. I looked at them almost
with incredulity. They were the biggest tiger tracks I had ever

seen.

Abhu

assured

me

the tiger was at least twelve feet long

We followed the tracks as far as we could along the jungle road,

where they were

distinctly visible in the dust, but

it was not possible to follow

tracks entered the grass

longer.

We could only surmise which line

when

the

them any
the tiger had taken.

That evening we climbed

to the top of the highest ridge,

overlooking the valley the tiger had entered, and I roared and
Then we descended slowly down the hill
roared and roared
towards the Kasumri Rao, roaring at intervals until we reached
the Ulga beat. By the time we got there it was nearly dark. I
!

stopped roaring and we made tracks for home.

Next morning, the morning of my last day, news came in
that the big tiger had killed the Ulga bait.
Abhu went off to collect beaters, but, to his dismay, found
that nearly all the men had gone off to a distant rendezvous to
receive their wages from a contractor.
The villages were
Abhu
and
returned
with
five elderly men.
practically deserted,
I suggested sitting up that evening for the tiger, but Abhu
shook his head. It was too well known, he said, that this old
tiger never returned to a kill before dark. Would I break the
Forest rule
I stay

and

sit

up

another day?

"Abhu,"

I said.

till

midnight? I said I would not. Could

could not. So, then, what?

I said I

"There is no

alternative.

You and these five

men must do a beat."

I sent Abhu and his men

off to collect all the spare clothing

all my underclothes, pyjamas,
I
unearthed
while
they could,
bed sheets, towels, handkerchiefs, shirts, newspapers, and
anything else I could lay hands on to festoon the jungle with
dummy stops, and hope thereby to prevent the tiger from
breaking out of the beat.
When passing the shrine, I again gave Abhu a couple of
In return, he sent me a little
silver rupees for the Priest.
"Gendas"
of
(Indian Marigolds). Our luck for the
bouquet

day was now

assured.

On

arrival at the Ulga, we stalked the kill, in the hopes of

then
getting a shot at the tiger, but the tiger was not there.

We

decided to do the beat in the same way as we had done for the
previous tiger. It took us quite some time to hang up our

NEW

IDEAS

89

on clothes-lines between bushes and trees and, finally,

was ready, I took up my position, and handed Abhu
my shotgun and a few cartridges to go off and do the beat. He
was to fire a shot to get the tiger started, and was thereafter to
fire a shot or two at intervals to keep the tiger well ahead of
the five men, who might otherwise be regarded by the tiger as
lingerie

when

all

rather a joke.
The beat was carried out according to plan, but no tiger

appeared

Crestfallen, and very dejected,

down to the Kasumri Rao,

our

little

party descended the

where we sat down under a

tree.
Abhu
was
convinced
the tiger had not been in the
shady
and
we
were
beat,
just discussing the possibility of his being
in some other hiding place, when a sambur belled from a hillside further up the valley, and presently the alarm was taken
up by two or three others in the same vicinity. Abhu stood up,
and pointing in the direction of the sound, very simply said,
hill

is there."
He then pointed up at the cliffs that
the
topped
steep hillside, rising about a thousand feet above us,
and said to me, "Sahib, I am too old to climb that hill, but you
can do so, and if you go and sit at the bottom of the cliff, I will

"The

tiger

five men up from the valley below, and you may see
the tiger." I struggled up the steep ascent, and, after half an
hour's stiff climbing, carrying my heavy rifle, I at last gained
the foot of the cliffs.

send these

The

old shikari

knew

his jungles well,

and had

sent

me up

to

my position, with a full knowledge of what he was doing. In

front of me lay a long bare ridge, which divided the Northern
from the Southern aspect of the hill, with a series of small ridges
up from the valley enclosed in the proposed beat. No
needed. The perpendicular cliffs on my left were
were
stops
unscalable, even for a tiger, and I could see along the bare
ridge to my right for nearly two hundred yards, so that no

leading

tiger could escape that

way unnoticed by me

either.

When

the beat began, the widely dispersed beaters yelled

and shouted and struck their axes against tree trunks to make
as much noise as possible but the steep climb soon wore them
down. Presently only a shout here and there reached my ears.
Quite obviously it was a mug's game trying to do a tiger beat
with only five men. Suddenly, however, I heard something in
the grass below me.

It

sounded

like

a breeze gently rustling

CALL OF THE TIGER

9O

the grass, and then, the big tiger appeared, scarcely ten yards
from me, but, no sooner had I seen him than he disappeared
into some tall grass beyond. My heart thumped while I waited
for him to reappear. When he did so, he was not more than
twenty yards from me, but he had turned right to go up the hill
and was half hidden by a little ridge. He was moving quickly
to try and get over the crest. I fired at his right shoulder, and
saw him topple over and disappear behind the ridge. In my
excitement I ran forward to the ridge, and was just in time to

him crawling into

him off.

see

the ravine below.

would very much have

liked to

My next shot finished

measure

this tiger in the

recognized standard way 'Between Pegs". He was colossal,

with tremendous shoulders, and enormous fore-paws. He was,
however, past his prime, with rather a dull tawny coat, and
indistinct markings, which lacked the lustre of a tiger in his
prime. Unfortunately, he was lying on a steep hillside, and it
would have been impossible with five men to get him to a level
He measured ten feet seven inches over
piece of ground.
curves. As we could not move him, we had to skin him where he
'

lay.

Abhu was

waiting for us in the Kasumri Rao. I got down a

ahead of the others carrying the skin, and tried to pull his
leg by saying I had missed, but the old boy simply bowed and
saluted, and said, "Sahib, the skin will be down here in the
Kasumri Rao in a few minutes,"
Whether the tiger had sneaked out through the dummy stops
in the first beat, and then walked on to the sambur lying up
somewhere on the next hillside, or whether the sambur had
bolted out of the beat and stumbled on to the tiger must always
remain an open question. The dummy stops could not be
I was inclined to agree with Abhu, and believe it
questioned
was the latter. As he had been driven out and fired at previbit

ously in the Ulga beat, it is more than likely the old tiger
considered it an unnecessary risk to lie up there again, and
probably chose to lie up elsewhere on that memorable day.

Before going further, I must point out that my duties had

kept me pretty well tied to what, in those days, was known as
"The North West Frontier". Lack of opportunity prevented

me from

trying

any more experiments

for

some time.

had

NEW

IDEAS

gi

up a tiger, and, although I had had a certain

amount of success with panthers, the real value of the call still
remained to be proved. I had yet to succeed in calling a
failed to call

panther up to my gun.
My next efforts were in the Himalayas. Several dogs had
mysteriously disappeared from our neighbourhood, and it was
suspected they had been whipped off by panthers. By calling
up late one evening I succeeded in attracting a small female
panther to a dead bait, and also succeeded in shooting her the
following evening, but this, once again, was just a repetition
of what I had succeeded in doing at Kasumri. One evening,
however, I chose a spot on the outskirts of the town, just below
a house from which a dog had disappeared. It was a quiet
locality, bordering on thick scrub jungle. Directly below me
the densely wooded hillside descended steeply to a stream
about 500 feet below, and across the valley, about 300 yards
away, the sun shone brightly on the opposite hillside, which was
covered in scrub, but had open patches here and there. I was
carrying an 8 millimetre Mauser, in which I had the greatest
confidence, and I hoped, by calling up, to persuade a panther
to show up on the opposite hillside. Directly at my back was a

perpendicular rock face about thirty feet high.

My two coolies and I hid ourselves as best we could in some

and I began calling. Nothing at all happened, and

about half an hour I decided to move to another spur
about half a mile away. Having handed my rifle and the call
over to the coolies, I had just got up to go, when a quick
movement on the big rock above caught my eye. I could hardly
believe my eyes, for there, although the body was hidden in
grass, was the unmistakable head of a panther, outlined against
an open patch of sky. On seeing us get up out of our hiding
place, he had quickly tried to take cover, and now his head, with
the ears laid well back, was about all to be seen of him. I
quickly reclaimed my rifle, and as I raised it I could still see
the head of the panther jutting out like the head of a great big
lizard on top of the rock. He was almost directly above me
and not more than twelve yards away, so I had to make quite
sure of my aim before trying to send a bullet up through his
gullet into his brain. When I fired he somersaulted forwards,
and fell with a dull thud on to the pathway we were standing
on, or rather on to the pathway we had been standing on, for

bushes,
after

CALL OF THE TIGER

92

the coolies had vanished, and, in doing

and smashed

so,

had dropped the

to pieces. Animals hit in the head usually

kick frantically with their hind legs, and now the panther was
doing so with all the life left in him. Even at their last gasp,
call

tigers

it

and panthers have an unhappy knack of springing up and

tearing men to pieces, so to

bullet through him.

make

quite sure, I put another

Another sportsman now arrived quite breathless and speechHe was astonished to see the panther lying dead on the
pathway. He had heard my panther-call from his bungalow
about a mile away, and had immediately seized his rifle and
run on to a neighbouring ridge. From there he had seen a
panther moving across the opposite hillside, and had then run
in our direction to try and intercept it. Believing our call to be
a real panther he had been stalking us. It was perhaps just as
less.

we had got up to go when we did

The panther was a fine big male,

well

in perfect condition.
Pleased though I was with the trophy, I was still more pleased
that, at last, the call had proved a success.
In the high hills, barking deer have a habit of grazing in the
evening, and one can occasionally get a shot across a valley
when this small deer steps out from the dense cover it usually
lives in, and stands for a few seconds in a small clearing. The
sportsman should choose his position with this object in view,
and provided he sits absolutely still, he is occasionally rewarded.
I had chosen a position one evening to do this, when a panther
called high up the opposite hillside. It took me some time to

discover

him through my

outside a cave,

men

with

When

field-glasses.

and presently moved

me to fetch the panther call.

man returned, the shadow

the

He was

into

it.

standing just
one of the

I sent

of our

hill

had

started

moving up the opposite hillside, and I knew that in less than

half an hour it would be too dark to shoot across the intervening

We

therefore moved down to a spur below, from where

the distance would be considerably reduced, and from there I

valley.

and continued calling, without success, until it

was getting dark. Presently it was too dark to shoot, and we
started on our homeward journey.
There was a steep climb ahead of us and I handed my rifle to
a coolie to carry, but when we had climbed for two or three
minutes and reached a small pathway leading round the
started calling,

NEW

IDEAS

93

shoulder of the hill, a strange feeling came over me, and, without quite knowing why, I turned to the coolie and took my
rifle back from him. I can remember feeling quite amused at

myself for doing this, because there was no apparent reason

for doing so, except that roaring in the jungle at dusk does sometimes create a rather tense atmosphere, and I was inclined to
put it down to that. The second coolie, carrying the contrap-

and again, for no known

But hardly had I gone
thirty paces, when, rounding the corner of the hill, I walked
Whether he had seen me
straight on to a large panther.
before I saw him, or whether he had bumped into me coming
round the corner I cannot say, but there he was, right on the
He made no attempt to
bend, less than five yards away.
tion,

was moving somewhat

reason, I ordered

him

noisily,

to lag behind.

crouch or run away, but stood stock

still,

hoping,

that in the semi-darkness, his colouring wo\ild save

imagine,

him from

being seen. Unfortunately for him, however, he was right on

the corner, and the outline of his body was distinctly visible. It
seemed ridiculous that this most cunning of all animals was

going to stand there and

what he

let

me shoot him,

The whole blade

but that was exactly

my mauser's foresight was

I
and
could
see
it
fairly clearly even in that
painted white,
bad light. Aiming at the middle of his shoulder I fired. The
immediate result was alarming. He roared and stood right up
on his hind legs to try and get at me, but, in doing so, fell over
sideways, and I immediately put another bullet through him,
and yet another as he rolled down the hill. Meanwhile the
coolie just behind me had seen all this and yelled blue murder,
and now people were calling out anxiously from the hilltops to
ask what had happened. I had no torch with me, and it was
impossible to see what had happened to the panther, who was
last seen rolling down the steep hillside.
Very early next
did.

of

morning, however, I found him lying dead about thirty yards

below where I had shot him.
In the light of this and the previous experience, I came to the
conclusion that panthers, in the hills, approach a call from
above and behind the caller.

CHAPTER

VII

WAITING AND WATCHING

NOTHING

more boring or disappointing than to go out

and have to wait several days without
news of a kill. I was once unlucky enough to find myself in this
unfortunate position.
Morning after morning the shikaris
returned only to report that all baits were untouched, and I
became heartily sick of seeing them shake their heads. And
they, poor fellows, were as disappointed as myself. We had
seen the tracks of a big tiger the morning after our arrival, and
two days before that a tiger had killed the Forest Guard's best
is

to a shooting block,

cow, less than half a mile from the Forest Bungalow. According
to him, two tigers had fed and dragged the carcass about almost
up to the very minute of my arrival. Since then baits had been
tied out regularly every evening, but
As generally
nothing
on
such
shikaris
occasions, my
happens
began suspecting some
evil spirit was at work, or there was some hoodoo in our midst,
and, according to them, no tiger would touch the baits until this
had been righted. The remedy suggested, of course, was the
appeasement of the local deity by sacrificing a goat, but, when
all the evidence had been fully discussed and thoroughly
thrashed out, the blame really seemed to descend, not on any
evil spirit, but on a poor wretched individual, who, on account
of his local knowledge of the jungles, had been engaged as an
assistant shikari. This poor unfortunate man had an implicit
faith in the Will of the Creator. If ever anyone suggested that,
perhaps, a bait had been tied out in the wrong place, he used
to answer quite simply, "No, it is the will of God Almighty. If
He ordains that a bait be taken, then only will it be taken." It
was, of course, quite impossible to argue against anything like
this, and, although I told him I did not think God would help
us unless he took a little more trouble, and tied the baits a bit
further away from home, he was still unconvinced, and his
great faith remained unshaken.
My faith, however, had already suffered something of a setback. I felt something ought to be done, and, as exercise, and
.

94

WAITING AND WATCHING

95

extra exertion often dispel doubts and superstitions, I

told the head shikari, who used to enjoy an afternoon siesta

little

that he himself
baits,

would have

to go out that afternoon with the

were properly tied out as far out in the
was possible to go before nightfall. This was not

and

see that they

jungle as it
a popular decision

There

is

"Man proposes, God

into the jungle for the, head

no truer saying than the one

The proposed jaunt

disposes".
shikari ended abruptly.

Less than an hour after his departure,

arrived back dripping with perspiration. They
had just reached the place where a bait had always been tied,
when a tiger roared a hundred yards ahead of them, and the

he and

his

men

whole party, as one man, together with the baits, had turned
and fled. They said the tiger was still roaring, and asked me to
go back with them. Fate had very neatly turned the tables on

me!

On arrival at the spot, we soon discovered

a

as she

had ceased

the fresh tracks of

roaring, and entered dense

tigress but,
followed in the
jungle, it was impossible to locate her.
direction she had taken, and wasted considerable time hoping

We

she would roar again, but she did not do so. The result of all
this was that baits were tied out in exactly the same places as
before

At about midnight

that night there was a terrific thunderstorm with torrential rain. It poured for four or five hours, and
did not stop raining till dawn. When the shikaris went out in
the morning, they found one of the baits had been taken. All
tracks had been washed out by the rain, but the drag of the
kill was still faintly visible, and, on following it up a short

had seen two

had growled at them.

distance, the shikaris

they said,

tigers

on the

kill.

A big tiger,

On hearing the news,

got there than

it

I set out at once, but, no sooner had I

started raining again. Actually this was more

The patter of the raindrops on the

move noiselessly towards the kill. When we

a help than a hindrance.

leaves enabled us to

had got

to about fifteen yards of it, the shikari suddenly pointed

out a reddish object, under a bush, about ten yards to the right.
Quite naturally, we concluded it was the tiger lying up near
his kill, but although we could actually see the hair, we could
not for the life of us make out what part of the tiger was showing. As I did not fancy hitting him in a soft spot at such close

CALL OF THE TIGER

96

range, I signalled the shikari to pass me my field glasses. To

did
my disgust it turned out to be a Kakur (barking deer).
not attempt to disturb him, but, presently, he got up, barked
a couple of times and then went slowly up the hill. Strangely
enough, I have quite often seen a kakur near a tiger kill, and,

We

although I have never actually seen one eating from a kill, I

rather suspect these small deer of being carnivorously inclined.
Certainly a tame kakur will eat meat.
The half-eaten kill was lying on a level piece of ground at
the foot of a hill. The only suitable tree for a machan was
about twenty yards away, leaning over at a dangerous angle
from the side of the hill towards the kill. Two thoughts struck

me at once. Firstly, that a tiger could easily run up the tree

trunk to share the machan with me and secondly, that it was
a thin tree and might not stand the weight of my fifteen stone
at the top end of it. But, as the jungle was quite unsuitable for
a beat, there seemed no alternative but to sit up. I ordered the
shikaris to get the machan ready, and also had the kill tied to a
it from being dragged away.
do not usually start sitting up till about four o'clock
afternoon, but on this occasion I was half an hour

sapling, to prevent
I

in the
early,

because, after rain, tigers sometimes return early to their

When

had

settled myself comfortably into

men to go away talking loudly.

my

kills.

machan,

As usual, they
ordered my
shouted "Chalo Bhai" (Come on brother) at the tops of their
Further words comvoices, and then coughed vigorously!
I
have
often
wondered
them.
failed
why men, who spend
pletely

day and night talking nineteen

tongue-tied

when ordered

to persuade shikaris to

to the dozen,

become absolutely

have never yet been able

go away talking to each other in a
to talk

normal way. Anyway, off they went, leaving me feeling anything but safe in my precarious machan.
It was a glorious afternoon. The rain clouds had disappeared
and the sun was shining brightly. The leaves of the trees had
been washed clean by the rain, and, instead of looking dusty
and dull, they were now glistening and green. The whole
jungle looked beautiful. I had been gazing into this lovely
woodland for about ten minutes, when I heard something
coming noisily down the hill behind me. I imagined it to be a
troupe of monkeys. A minute or two later, however, I caught a
fleeting glimpse of

tiger,

moving through the bushes towards

WAITING AND WATCHING

97

the foot of my tree. Leaning over to have a good look, I discovered it was a cub, a bit bigger than a large Alsatian.
It
sat down right at the foot of my sloping tree
minute later it
was joined by another of about the same size. They were in a
!

playful mood, and I wondered when they would start running

up the tree trunk to start playing with me Then they rolled
over and over each other on the ground, and indulged in quite
!

fair amount of all-in wrestling, quite regardless of the noise

they were making. I realized then that the noise I had mistaken

for

monkeys must have been

these

two playing on

their

way

down the hill.

The game at

the foot of the tree went on for a few minutes,

and then one of the cubs, suddenly remembering the kill, broke
away from his playmate, and stalked solemnly down the slope
to the carcass. There he soon got down to business. Seizing
bits of flesh with his teeth, he threw his full~ weight on to his
haunches, jerking and tugging with all his might to tear off
large lumps of meat from the carcass. The second cub sat
watching him for a while, but shortly joined him in tearing at
the kill. Thp two of them behaved like little savages over their
meal, snarling and growling at each other, and competing for
the best titbits hidden inside the carcass. It was when both
dived in together that the fiercest arguments took place. I was
so engrossed watching this gruesome savagery, that I had not
noticed the arrival of Mama, but there she was now, a fine
big tigress, sitting up on her haunches, proudly watching her
cubs fighting over their supper. All the same, she was very
much on the alert, and kept looking all round, obviously doing
sentry while the cubs were feeding. When, however, they had
more or less finished their meal, she approached the kill, and,
seizing it by the exposed rib with her teeth, lifted it off the
ground, and tried to drag it away. But I had tied one of its legs
to a sapling, and when she found she could not take it away, she,
too, threw all her weight back on to her haunches, and gave
the kill a couple of tremendous jerks, which would have
snapped a single rope, but I had been careful to double this
one Strangely enough, this did not seem to raise any suspicions
!

in her mind, though she did take the precaution to start

feeding standing up to avoid all the stinging insects now teeming round the carcass. She too tore chunks of meat off the
carcass,

and gulped them down whole, and, by growling and

GALL OF THE TIGER

98

snarling, kept the cubs away while she was eating. But, if by
chance she tore off more than an easy mouthful, she used to
carry it away in her mouth, and sit down a few yards away to

chew and

eat it there. Whenever she did this, the cubs seized

the opportunity and returned hurriedly to the kill, to bite off as
much as they possibly could during her absence.
What worried me now was that a whole liver weighing
several pounds was lying a few feet away from the kill, but

had noticed it. I kept wondermorsel would remain undiscovered, and

which of the three would be the lucky one to find it. When,
however, the tigress had more or less satisfied her hunger, and
had given up making quite such vigorous tugs at the kill, the
liver caught her eye, and, after bending down to sniff it, she
picked it up in her mouth, gave it a couple of hearty chews, and
swallowed the whole thing in one big gulp. This then was the
savoury! Looking well pleased with herself, the tigress now
stalked off and sat down about ten yards away. Actually, she
had not taken more than about ten minutes over her dinner,
and now the cubs were down to business again, tugging away
as hard as they could at the carcass. Occasionally they stopped,
and one or other of them would walk over to the tigress, who,
from time to time, growled, purred, made a sort of throaty
hissing sound, and twice made a chirruping-whistling noise,
which I had never heard before.
Just before dusk, with the tigress and cubs still lying about
near the kill, I was delighted to hear the full-throated roar of a
tiger about half a mile away. Surely, this was Papa, coming
along to have his dinner. For the first time now my thoughts
flew to my rifle. But when the tigress heard the roar she sprang
to her feet immediately, and the two cubs at once dashed to her
side. In absolute silence, they stood looking in the direction of
When the tiger roared again, the tigress's body
the roar.
as she tried to suppress an answering roar. She
heaved
literally
was obviously dying to answer the tiger, but her motherly
instinct made her refrain from doing so. The tiger, still roaring,
went down the Forest road about a furlong away, but did not
come to the kill, and I firmly believe he did not know anything
about it. He, however, put the wind up my shikaris who were
waiting further down the road. Needless to say they had all
climbed trees, and stayed in them till the danger had gone by
neither the tigress nor the cubs

ing

how long

this juicy

WAITING AND WATCHING

99

When it got dark it was up to me to obey the Forest rule, and

get down from my tree to go home, but, with the tigress and
having occasional tugs at the kill, I wondered how this
be accomplished. They had been with me now for over
three hours, and much as I had enjoyed their company, it was
now time to call it a day. I therefore began trying to pave the

cubs

was

way

still

to

for

kill.
kill.

my

departure.

First of all I flashed

my

torch on the

The tigress immediately bolted. Both cubs were on the

One was buried head and shoulders inside the carcass, so

he did not notice the bright

light, but the other had obviously

never seen such a thing before, and, after staring and blinking
at the light, turned right round and began displaying the
keenest interest in its own shadow. This was most unexpected,
and I had great fun shaking the torch, and making the cub
jump after its shadow. Eventually, both cubs sat together
watching their shadows, but it did not seem to strike either of
them that they themselves were being watched by anyone.

Next

blew

my whistle,

which was the

signal for the shikaris to

but although they heard me and

shouted to say they were coming, the cubs still sat on. Realizing
that it would be serious if the tigress came back to protect them,
I clapped my hands several times, but still with no result. As the
shikaris now were only a couple of hundred yards away, I
shouted to them to halt, but it was not until I had shouted again
at the cubs, that they finally decided to move slowly away.

come and

fetch

me down,

When

I got down from my machan and told the story, the

were most disappointed I had not shot the tigress, and
I am afraid no argument would have convinced them that I had
acted rightly in sparing her life. It had been lucky for her that
her cubs came to the kill before her, or things might have turned
out otherwise, and I should have lost three hours of interesting

shikaris

jungle entertainment.
It had been interesting to see how the tigress and her cubs
behaved when they heard a male tiger roaring. It is generally
accepted that a big male tiger will kill a small male cub if he
comes across it. A tigress therefore takes good care to keep her

cubs out of Papa's way while they are young. Actually, she
always separates from her mate before the cubs are born, and
goes away to some remote jungle, as far away as possible from
the beats of all other tigers. This is done primarily to avoid the
notoriously bad temper of her spouse, who is intolerant while

GALL OP THE TIGER

XOO

and at the silly stage. Later, when they are

and
have
learnt how to behave properly, they return
well-grown
with their mother to her old haunts, and sometimes even rejoin
the cubs arc young

who

then does not take exception to his well-behaved

may even be considered a pity that this system is
not more universally adopted
It is not uncommon to come
across tiger families of Papa, Mama, and two or three cubs, all
living happily together, but this does not happen until the cubs
have reached the age of reason.
I cannot describe what infinite pleasure it gave me to see these
two cubs, the tigers of to-morrow, at home in the jungle with
their mother. I wished over and over again that I had had a
camera with me in my machan.

Father,

children.

It

In jungles where beaters are not available, "Sitting up" has

and if, added to this handicap, there is a
Forest Rule forbidding shooting at night, the chances of bagging
a cunning old tiger become rather slim, especially if he has been
educated up to realizing it is dangerous to return to a kill before
dark. It was with mixed feelings, therefore, that I received
news of a kill, where circumstances, as described above, were
all in favour of the tiger. However, as it was possible to motor
to within half a mile of the kill, and as this particular tiger was
a confirmed cattle-lifter, and had been doing a great deal of
to be resorted to,

damage, I decided, though reluctantly, to see what I could do

about it.
I found the kill had been dragged over a furlong into a
sheltered nullah, where the tiger had eaten his fill, and then
proceeded to drag the carcass still further to hide it in a deep
ravine. The kill was a large bullock and it could not have been

dragged that distance except by a very large tiger. He had

taken such pains to hide the kill that it seemed pretty certain he
intended to return. I took great care to conceal my machan,
and, so far as I could see, it was perfect. By four o'clock I had
taken up my position, and my men went back to wait near my
car about half a mile away.
Within a few minutes of their departure, three or four longtailed Himalayan magpies arrived, and started feeding on the
kill. In the Doon and in the upper hills, these birds are nearly
always the first to find a kill. If a sportsman knows and understands their various

calls,

he

will benefit considerably

by

his

WAITING AND WATCHING

IOI

knowledge, for they will, on occasion, help him locate a kill, and
warn him of the presence of a tiger or panther, by
their
chattering alarm cry denoting danger.
giving
The magpies were enjoying themselves, and their complete
ignorance of my presence was convincing proof that my
will also

machan was

well concealed.

One

magpie, evidently the

accepted champion, was bullying the others, driving them off

the kill into the trees, where they sharpened and cleaned their
bright orange-coloured beaks on branches while awaiting a
chance to return again for a feed. They seemed to have insatiable appetites, and tugged vigorously with their beaks to
tear off bits of flesh, even resorting to flapping their wings to
put more pep into these efforts to do so. Nevertheless, one could
not help admitting that they were very handsome birds. The

pity

was they were quite

so greedy.

Time wore

slowly on, and the jungle was peaceful enough,

sundown, when thousands of crows flew over on
their homeward journey, to roost in some favourite spot for the

until just before

night.

These birds

fly

great distances every morning to far-off

feeding grounds in distant cities or towns, and return at nightfall

to roost in the trees that for generations have been the roosting

place of their forebears. Seeing them flying over, my mind was

carried back to many crow-infested places, such as the large
Pipal trees outside Meerut Cantonment Railway Station, the
Cantonment Garden at Ferozepore, and the big Banyan tree in
front of

my bungalow

in Jullundur Cantonment.

even

thought of the night, when startled by a severe earthquake, they

had all flown out of the Banyan tree, cawing vigorously But
now a bright-eyed crow had spotted the kill, and was circling
Soon others joined him, and presently,
round overhead.
hundreds of crows settled in the trees all round. I knew it would
!

be a matter of seconds before I was discovered. I sat perfectly

still, but it was hopeless. They rose in a cloud, and flew round
cawing for all they were worth, to warn the whole jungle of my
presence. It had never struck me there would be this invasion,
or I would have arranged overhead camouflage. Fortunately
it was getting late, and after making life hideous for a few
minutes, they suddenly decided to continue on their way.
Now there was peace again. jungle cock was crowing his
last crow of the evening, before flying up to roost in a tree, and
far away in the distance grey partridges were calling cheerily

CALL OF THE TIGER

IO2

and loudly

to bid

each other good night. Soon

I sat rigidly still, hoping against

arrive before darkness set in.

hope

it

was dusk and

would

that the tiger

Something had startled a herd of

away. The shrill cries, repeated
over
and
over
sharply
again denoted alarm, and I knew they
had seen an enemy. Perhaps the tiger was on his way, or
maybe it was only the panther who had suddenly dashed across

Coop!

Coop!

Coop!

chital a couple of furlongs

the Forest road in front of my car.

Soon

my mind was put at rest. Suddenly, from the hill

my car, the tiger roared. He roared again and again,

beyond
and it became obvious he was coming down the hill towards
the car. Even if he hurried now he could not arrive at the kill
before dark, but what worried me was that he would probably
hold up my men when it was time to fetch me down from my
machan. I had ordered them to come for me as soon as it got
dark, but now if they hesitated I could hardly blame them. A
roaring tiger is not a pleasant customer after dark.
Having roared about a dozen times the tiger became

and

him

silent,

myself to the
an hour,
of
to
in
darkness
for
at
least
wait
probability
having
and also to the possibility of having to listen to him having his
dinner a few yards away, without being able to do anything
about it both very exasperating thoughts If he came to the
kill I could not so much as switch my torch on to have a look
at him, as that would spoil all chances for the following day.
A few minutes later, however, I was amazed and pleased to
hear human voices. Knowing me to be a stickler for obeying
Forest Rules, my men were coming for me after all, even at the
risk of meeting an angry tiger. It was a stout effort for which

my

interest in

subsided.

I resigned

gave them full

shotgun with the
I

credit.

They were

all

unarmed except

for

shikari.

had thought, the tiger had first roared from the hill
the
car, and had then come down a jungle path towards
beyond
it, roaring from time to time as he sauntered down the hill.
As

My

and men, about a dozen souls in all, had all squeezed

into my car, and wound up the glass windows. Finally, the
tiger, who had come to within twenty yards of the car without
seeing it in the dense jungle, put the wind up the party by
giving vent to a full-throated roar. Then, emerging from the
jungle on to the motor road, he had stood and Jtooked at them.
shikaris

WAITING AND WATCHING

103

The

suspicious old tiger did not return to the kill at all that
night. The only result of the whole outing was that my cityborn motor driver came to me next morning and tendered his
resignation.
It rained heavily the next day, and the next. Cattle went out
into the jungle after the rain, and while they were grazing, the
tiger singled out a fine fat cow from the herd, and killed her.

The news was brought to me

On

at once.

found the cow had evidently succeeded in

arrival,
the
tiger's first rush, but he had given chase. Judging
evading
the
skid
marks
in the slippery wet mud at a road junction
by
thirty yards ahead, both had turned the corner at full speed.
Twenty yards further on there were more skid marks, and then
a patch of blood on the roadside, where the tiger had eventually
I

his victim. From there the drag led into extremely

dense jungle. We crept forward very slowly, until eventually
we found the carcass lying in a deep narrow nullah, with almost

overpowered

perpendicular sides.
Trees were plentiful in that dark, dense jungle, and my
machan was soon ready. Once again, all was set, and by four
o'clock my men went away talking, leaving me to eke out
yet a few more hours in what so far had been a wild goose
chase.

An hour went by without incident. Not even the magpies

had discovered the kill concealed in that deep dark ravine.
Twenty minutes later my hopes were dashed to the ground,
when suddenly

the jungle resounded to a shot fired with a

black-powder cartridge, obviously the work of a poacher. I
fairly boiled with rage.

But then a kakur began

calling,

and

my

hopes were revived.

One cannot rely too much on the alarm cry of these

small deer,
in with the general scheme of
things, and I imagined that the loud report of the gun had
probably jolted the tiger out of a sleep, and he was now

but in

this case it

evidently

did seem to

fit

on the move.

A few minutes later I heard a light footfall and the leaves of a

bush being gently brushed aside by the body of an animal

moving under my machan. Instinctively I knew the tiger had
arrived. The sun was setting and it was still quite light enough
to see, but I dared not move an inch to look over the side of the
machan. Tigers have extremely sharp ears, and he was only a

QALL OF THE TIGER

IO4

feet away. Then I heard a heavy animal jump down into

the nullah near the kill.
For the next three or four minutes there was dead silence, and

few

I began wondering whether my cars had deceived me. Then,

once again, I heard movement in the nullah, and a huge tiger
appeared moving slowly towards the kill. Owing to the sandy
nature of the nullah I had not been able to peg down the kill.

The

tiger picked it up in his jaws, and I realized that unless I

took a shot at once, he would simply walk away with it, never
to be seen again. Aiming directly behind his left shoulder, I
fired. At the shot he went right over backwards, and fell on to
his right side, where he lay snapping viciously with his mighty
jaws, and lunging forwards with his great forearms, an aweinspiring sight. I felt thankful I was not within his reach.
He was a beautiful big male, with the darkest coat, and the
biggest head I had yet seen in a tiger. It took a dozen men
nearly an hour to get him out of that deep nullah, and on the
way home he broke the rear springs of my car. Two things

made all who saw him gasp

his huge head, and his remarkable

looked
and
really was a tough guy, with a
physique.
muscular development that would have turned any world
champion green with envy.
But what had made him return so early to his kill that
evening? Perhaps in killing the runaway cow he had imagined
it to be a natural kill that would not be discovered by man.
Besides this, he had dragged the kill into the darkest, densest
jungle, and concealed it in such a deep nullah that even the
birds had not discovered it. Another factor was the heavy rain,
which had kept men out of the jungle. Then that shot, fired
somewhere near him had made him move. It was a damp, cold
evening in January, and as he had no reason to be suspicious,
he had for once thrown off his usual caution and cunning, and
had come along early to meet the doom Fate had in store for

He

him.

now move to another part of India, where the shooting

do not prohibit shooting tigers by night. As sometimes
happens news reached me about a kill too late in the afternoon
to be able to do a beat. The kill had taken place eight miles
away, and the men bringing the news said that the local shikari
would have everything ready for me on arrival.
Let us

rules

WAITING AND WATCHING

IO5

When I got there I found the dead cow lying in the depths of
very dense jungle, under the bank of a stony nullah. The local
shikari, an old friend of mine, had indeed done a splendid job.
My machan was ready, beautifully sited in a big tree on the
opposite side of the nullah, with a clear view of the kill about
twenty-five yards away. The men grazing the cattle had driven
the tiger off his kill, before he had had time to snatch more than
a few mouthfuls of meat off the carcass. He was apparently
very hungry and would probably return early for a feed.
As usual, my men had hardly gone when crows started
arriving.

They cawed joyously

to call

up

their friends.

More

and more

started arriving, and presently, one or two of the

bolder ones flew down on to the kill, soon to be joined by the
rest.

Provided that the crows do not discover the sportsman in

the machan, they serve a useful purpose. Their presence is

always reassuring to a tiger or panther^ provided they are
behaving normally, and are actually feeding on the kill.

When

the sun was low on the horizon, grey monkeys started

swearing about half a mile away. They were very excited and I

was on

his way. Presently they were joined

a
by
barking deer, and the riot continued for
several minutes. Then some peafowl joined in and the air was
still full of their piercing cries, when the jungles vibrated to the
roaring of a panther. This was something I had not bargained
for. I had accepted the word of the local shikari that a tiger
had made the kill, but there were no pug-marks in the stony
nullah, and I had not bothered to examine the fang marks in
the neck. These would have told me the truth. I sank back in
my machan, full of disappointment. I felt most annoyed with
myself, and decided to shoot the first feline coming to the

imagined the

tiger

in their chorus

kill.

Soon it was dusk. The alarm cries had died down, and a
hush had come over the jungle. If the culprit was a panther, he
would be coming along now. I was in revengeful mood, and
was prepared to settle his account.
But no panther came. There was a dark interval of about
half an hour, and then the moon, one day over the full, rose in
all her glory. As she rose the moonbeams lit up the opposite
bank of the nullah, and the trees and bushes began taking on
mystic shapes. The jungle became a fairyland. I sat enraptured, watching the ever-changing effects of moonlight and

CALL OF THE TIGER

IO6

shadows, which were playing hide and seek in the enchanted

forest.

A man had come

by the bright moonlight, and although
he must have been a mile away, the exhortations and curses he
rained down on his unfortunate bullocks, rent the air and were
so distinctly audible, that he might have been less than a
hundred yards away. No tiger would dream of coming to the
kill while this tirade was going on. Would the wretched man
ever stop? It seemed as though he never would, and for over
an hour he continued to ruin my chances. Then suddenly the
noises stopped almost as suddenly as they had begun.
A few minutes later I heard the gentle rustling that makes the
tiger hunter's heart start thumping in the machan, and to my
joy a huge tiger appeared on top of the bank above the kill.
It

was not long before the spell was broken.

into his fields to plough

He looked almost pale yellow in the bright moonlight.

few
seconds later I heard him jump down into the nullah, but I
could see nothing in the deep shadows. As the kill had been
securely tied to a root in the bank, I now waited patiently for the
situation to develop. I knew he would pull and tug to break the
rope, but I also knew that it would hold fast, and my chance
would come when I heard him eating the kill. He shook the
kill vigorously, and then I heard him tugging to break the rope,
but for the life of me, I could see nothing, although I strained

my eyes to see what was happening.

There was a long silence,

and I wondered if he had become suspicious and cleared off, but
eventually I heard him pulling at the kill again, and presently
the chewing and gulping
I heard the noises I was waiting for
noises a tiger makes when he is having his dinner. Very slowly
I raised my rifle, and when I had it pointing in the right direction, I pressed the torch switch, and there, standing by the kill,
was an enormous tiger. He was so engrossed in what he was
doing that he did not seem to notice the light. I had ample
time to pick my shot, and fired at his shoulder. At the shot he
leapt in the air and fell over. Then he did what most tigers do
when they are dying he seized one of his own paws in his
mouth, and bit through it, as much as to say, "You are to blame
for this.

You

carried

me

here to

my

doom.'*

CHAPTER

VIII

TIGER NOISES

ONE OF the most thrilling noises one

can hear in the jungle

Indeed, when this roar is
heard at close quarters, its volume is so great, that it is aweinspiring, and can be really terrifying. The reaction of most
animals to this mighty roar, is one of terror, and the instinctive
action taken by those in close proximity is a headlong dash for
safety. In the hills, the full-pitched voice of the tiger probably
carries at least two miles, but, to appreciate the full value of
this terrifying "A-oonh", one should hear it fifty yards away and
at night
I have heard it in this way, but, fortunately from a
safe perch in a tree. Nevertheless, it all but made me jump out
is

the full-throated call of a tiger.

of my skin.
Tigers and tigresses both use this call in the mating season.
tigress, who was a prima donna at the art, taught
me my first lesson.
tigress seldom leaves her own particular
beat to go in search of a mate, but relies on her far reaching call
to attract a mate to herself. This then accounts for her persistent
roaring at the beginning of the mating season. She is the first to
give the call, and any male tiger within hearing distance will
come along to investigate, although he may or may not at once

The Kasumri

own experience, gained through

give an answering roar.
a
is
few
male tigers who have heard my
that
"calling up",
quite

My

"call" have not answered at once but have been so excited

by

that they have come along to investigate, and have later spent
the whole night roaring about the place, trying to find the
imaginary tigress they had heard calling earlier in the evening.
it

do not think a male

tiger goes

about roaring in search of a

mate, unless he has heard a call and has failed to make contact,
or unless he has discovered other unmistakable signs of a
tigress's

presence in the neighbourhood.

When

I first started trying to call up tigers, I used a longdistance call, equivalent to or perhaps surpassing in volume the
full-pitched roar of a really big tiger. The noise pleased me and
my shikaris immensely, and scared everyone and everything
107

CALL OF THE TIGER

IO8

death I am inclined to think, however,

that too powerful or resounding a roar tends to frighten all but
the very large tiger, who alone is sure of his own strength, and
will therefore come along to investigate, but even he will not
else in the jungles to

answer such a roar. He will approach cautiously, to try and

up the animal capable of producing so great a volume of
sound. When dealing with a male tiger I would suggest using
a more persuasive or feminine roar! For this I now use a
short-distance call, which can be modulated. On the other
hand, if this is used by mistake to call up a tigress, she will be
equally chary about coming forward to meet what she thinks
might be another tigress.
I have noticed in zoos where the tiger cages open on to a
size

general enclosure, into which the animals are let out by turns,
that tigers will rub themselves up against the trees or bars in
these enclosures, and will also sniff at the places where others
have done so before them. I imagine this is done not merely to

rub or scratch themselves but mainly for the sake of "sizing". In

this

way

they leave a trace of their individual smell, and also

indicate their height on the objects they rub up against. The

same applies in micturition. Both sexes urinate backwards, and

in the jungle usually choose

tall grass

or some vertical object as

a background.
Roaring is also resorted to by both sexes to call up a mate to
come and feed at a fresh kill. By "fresh" in this case, I mean one
that has not already been visited by the mate. I am not quite
sure, however, that a tigress is as generous as a tiger in this
matter, for I have known one take quite a lot of pains to lead
her mate away from her kill. It was during the mating season,
and a tigress had killed and partly eaten one of my baits. I
sat up over the kill, not with the intention of shooting the
tigress, because I wanted her to call a tiger or two into the
block, but just to see whether she would return to the kill alone,
or bring her mate along with her. At dusk she called about
half a mile away, and started by giving the sambur-like call,

known

as "pooking".

When she had repeated this call three or

four times in quick succession, she broke into a full-throated

and was immediately answered by a

tiger about a mile

other
at intervals, but,
each
called
to
Thereafter
beyond.
they
instead of bringing the tiger on to the kill, the tigress deliberately
went down a forest line, calling as she went, to lead him away

roar,

109

from it. I listened to the roaring going further and further

away, and eventually got down from my machan and went
home.
Early next morning I visited the kill, and found that the
tigress had returned alone during the night, and had had a
feed. I had my tiger-call with me, and decided to call, but, as
luck would have it, found that an important gadget had snapped. Leaving the shikaris to repair it, I sauntered down a
forest line to have a look at the tracks of the tiger I had heard
roaring the night before, and also to select a good spot for
calling up. While I was doing this, the shikaris succeeded in

mending the gadget, and, just to sec if the call would work,
tried it, and it did To their horror, and to my dismay, the call
was immediately answered by a tiger less than a quarter of a
!

mile away. I raced back to the shikaris, and, arriving breathless,

found them absolutely panic-stricken, for the tiger had called
again, and was advancing. They knew, and so did I, that a
The
tiger in the mating season was not to be trifled with.
we
were
was
as
it
was
totally unsuitable,
position
occupying
surrounded by dense jungle, and it was not possible to see more
than a few yards in any direction. I hurriedly called again to
draw the tiger on, but at the same time decided to make a
speedy withdrawal to the more open jungle about a furlong
away, where at least we should have been able to see the tiger
before he was right on top of us. I called once or twice on the
way, and was answered by our pursuer. But when he had
reached the edge of the dense jungle, he stopped and came no
further. Either he saw us, or he did not fancy leaving the dense
undergrowth to come out into the more open jungle ahead. Or
it may have been that he was with the tigress when he first
heard the call, and, having very successfully driven his
imaginary rival out of the domain, his honour was satisfied, and
he returned peacefully to his lady-love. Judging by his tracks
he was a fine big male.
As regards "pooking", my experience of this call has been
very limited. I have heard it quite often but, except for the
above occasion, I was never able to discover whether the noise
had been made by a tiger or a tigress. I have never used the call
myself, but it might prove very interesting indeed to imitate it
in the jungle, and see the results it produces. In the Central
Provinces, my shikaris Darbari and Saktu used to press a large

CALL OP THE TIGER

IIO

by blowing hard against it, produced

the "pooking" sound of a sambur fawn.
On one or two
occasions this drew a sambur hind to come towards us, and I
believe the device can be used for attracting a tiger or panther,
but I, personally, have never met with any success in this way.
I have never heard this tiger call answered by another tiger,
except on the one occasion mentioned above, but even in this
case the three or four sharp pooks given by the tigress had been
followed up with a full-pitched roar, and perhaps it was the
roar and not the pooking that had caused the tiger to answer. I

leaf against their lips, and,

have never heard any other animals in the jungle give their
alarm cry on hearing a tiger pooking, and so I cannot say
whether they recognize it as a tiger call. The only experience I
ever had which might throw a little light on the subject was

Having bought myself a new car

with peafowl.

was driving up

in

Bombay

to Rawalpindi, and, while going through the

jungles in Central India, I noticed that every time I tooted the

electric horn, all the peafowl in the jungles called immediately.
It then struck me that the electric horn closely resembled the

"pook" of a

tiger,

and that perhaps the peafowl had mistaken

the noise for the pooking of a tiger.

Talking about that trip has reminded

me of an incident, and

moment from the

may
shikar
to
It
of
tell
the
towards
the end of
was
story.
subject
was
at
its
all
when
the
the rivers
monsoon
and
worst,
August,
were in flood, that I undertook that ill-advised journey by road.
In the heart of Central India I was held up for a couple of days
at a small Rest House, because the river ahead was in flood, and
the causeway, which was about half a mile long was several feet
I

hope

be forgiven

if I

deviate for a

under water throughout its length. On the third day the flood
waters subsided, and, although there was still about a foot of
water flowing over the causeway, and in spite of a very strong
current, I decided to risk the crossing. Putting the car into first
gear, I entered the water, but although the car was a powerful
eight cylinder Buick I fairly soon realized that it was going to
be a fight to get across. Half-way across the current was so

strong that the car was nearly pushed over sideways, and my
terrified motor driver, who was sitting beside me in the front
seat,

say

kept beseeching

we had some

me to heave over to my own side.

exciting

got across, and were flying

I must
moments, but when eventually we
up the steep hillside on the opposite

TIGER NOISES

III

bank, I was cheered by the lorry and car drivers who were
assembled there with their vehicles waiting to cross over in the
opposite direction. I imagined they were admiring the streamline of my new car, and it was not until nearly three months
later, that I realized the reason for their cheering. Then, when
I was heading Southwards on my return journey, I came to the
same causeway, and found that if I had gone over the side, it
would have been into over twenty feet of water The causeway
had no railings, and I had imagined it to be just one of those
slightly raised Irish bridges leading across a shallow river-bed.
I raised my hat as I crossed over.
If a tiger and tigress have approached each other from a
!

and have been roaring so as to keep direction, they

sometimes resort to giving the low "moaning" call instead of
roaring when they are drawing near to each other. The "moan"
is the call most ordinarily used by tigers to keep in touch with
each other at close range, and is also used in other circumstances, which I will now endeavour to describe.
Firstly, in my opinion it is used as a warning to other animals
to get out of the way. I have generally noticed that a tiger
moans before returning to a kill, if he apprehends danger of
interference by other large animals, such as bears, panthers, or
elephants. For instance, if a panther has been heard roaring in
the vicinity of the kill, he will probably moan to get the panther
out of the way. Or, if there are any wild elephants about, he
will moan to suggest they get a move on, and he will sometimes
moan if a tame elephant has been used by the sportsman anywhere near the kill. In the same way a tiger will sometimes
moan before entering a dense patch of jungle in the early
distance,

morning, especially if it is his intention to lie up in that particular patch for the day.
Unlike many other animals a tiger
cannot rely on his sense of smell to warn him if there are any
other powerful or dangerous animals, such as elephants, bison,
panther or bear in the dense patch ahead, and he therefore
moans to warn them of his approach, knowing full well that
they will vacate the patch if they know he is coming. I would
not go so far as to say that the tiger is a coward, for I have the
greatest respect for him, but I would say that I think he is
peace-loving, and likes to avoid any unnecessary misunderstandings with the other powerful animals of the jungle. He is
fully conscious of his own strength, but dislikes throwing hi*

CALL OF THE TIGER

112

weight about unnecessarily, and, above all, dislikes a challenge.

He knows that all the other animals of the jungle have a very
healthy respect for him, and that they will make way for him if
they are warned, but he also knows how silly an old bear can be
if he steps on to him when he is asleep, and how hysterically
courageous a she-bear can be when she is protecting her cubs,
to say nothing of the cow-elephant with a small calf, or even a
big old boar who has selected a shady spot for a snooze. He
therefore prefers to maintain his dignity by issuing the necessary
warning. In this respect, I would liken him to the good old
Indian chowkidar (watchman), who, although armed with a
heavy stick, always coughs at night before rounding a corner of
the bungalow, in the hopes that any burglar will take to his
heels long before he comes in contact with him. By means of
this gentle cough he has maintained the dignity of his profession
for countless years,
to the acid test

and

his strength

and courage are seldom put

Secondly, I think the moan is probably used by a tiger while

hunting, either when working with a mate to flush game hidden
in dense jungle, and drive it towards his mate, working on a line
parallel to his own, or when hunting alone to locate hidden

game by

causing

at his leisure.

it

to panic,

In the former

and then deal with

case, the

moan

it

himself later

also helps the

mate

to maintain touch.

To try and explain why I have come to these conclusions, I

must return for a moment to the Kasumri tigress. It will be
remembered that when she first started roaring, she was lying
up in a deep nullah on a sunny hillside. At that time, all
animals in that vicinity were in hiding, and none of them gave
the alarm, although all of them must have heard her roar. As
soon as she got up and started moving, however, any animals
anywhere near her jumped up every time she roared, and,
giving their alarm cries, made a headlong dash for safety, until
eventually there were several deer of various species running
down the open hillside, while she herself wandered slowly and
unconcernedly along the ridge above. What a chance this
would have been for any tiger moving parallel to her somewhere
lower

down the hill

this lesson at the time,

tiger,

did not attach very much importance to

but in later years when I myself acted as

and wandered through the jungles

realize that the animals reacted to

my

roaring, I

began to

roaring just as they had

TIGER NOISES

113

Kasumri tigress. Chital and sambur

and
maintained
absolute silence so long as I
lay doggo,
done

to the roaring of the

remained stationary, but every time I moved forward after

roaring, they sprang up from their hiding places, and, giving
their startled alarm cries, made a headlong dash for safety. If
I was on top of a ridge, they always ran straight down the hill
away from me. I also found that certain other animals, always
reacted to my roaring in certain ways. For instance, solitary
grey monkeys (langurs), anywhere within hearing and sometimes at very considerable distances, always gave their alarm
call immediately. This greatly surprised me, for I had always
been under the impression that langurs never gave the alarm
unless they had actually seen a tiger or panther.
however, the roar of a tiger upsets their nerves,

Apparently,

and they call

they hear the roar from a distance.

immediately, even if
Apart from this, however, their alarm cry can be regarded as
one of the most reliable sources of information in the jungle. I
have heard langurs giving their alarm cries in the middle of the
night, but, generally on a moonlight night, when it would have
been possible for them to see a tiger or panther passing under
their trees in the moonlight. I do not know whether they are
gifted with enough sense of smell to be able to detect their
enemy under the trees on a dark night, but I have heard them
cursing on a pitch dark night as well. Barking deer also reacted
like the solitary langur, unless they happened to be very close,
say within fifty yards, when I started calling, in which case
they always tried to sneak quietly away unnoticed. When I
had done this in several localities, always with the same results,
the idea at last began taking a definite shape in my mind, and I
advanced a step further and tried "moaning" instead of roaring.

and

The sambur and

so did the kakur

chital

and

behaved in exactly the same way,

provided they were

solitary langurs,
within easy hearing distance.

A tiger does not hunt by scent, but depends on its eyes and
A sambur, that would lie doggo while hidden in dense

ears.

jungle and allow a man or tiger to pass within a few yards of it

without giving itself away, is unnerved by the roar or moan of a
tiger, and cannot stand the strain of remaining in hiding, when
it sees or hears what it believes to be an angry tiger approaching. It is the fear of the tiger's anger, conveyed through the
medium of his voice, that causes the animals to stampede. Then

CALL OF THE TIGER

114

why should a tiger not play this game? It costs him nothing to
moan occasionally to startle hidden game, which, otherwise, he
could never hope to find. I can say from my own experience
that on occasions when I have moved along a ridge to reach
some spur to do a bit of calling up, I have startled nothing, but,
on moving back along the same ridge after calling up, I have
put up a Sambur, that, obviously, must have been lying hidden,
and allowed me to pass within say forty yards of its hiding place
without moving on the first occasion.
The conclusion I have arrived at after much thought, and
after having 'played tiger" quite a number of times myself, is
'

that deer probably feel quite safe so long as they can hear the
tiger calling, and know where he is, and they often remain in

hiding quite close to where a tiger happens to be. This was

clearly in the case of the Kasumri tigress. As soon
as the tiger moves, however, they are on the "qui vive" at once,
and, if he has been calling, then, on seeing any movement whatsoever, say within a hundred yards, they conclude at once that
it is the tiger, and immediately give the alarm, and dash away.
By this I mean to say they do not wait to see whether it really is
the tiger. That to them is a foregone conclusion, and any
person or animal moving in that part of the jungle will set them
off at a gallop.
When a tiger's suspicions are aroused, he sometimes makes a
sort of suppressed, complaining moan to express his disOn one occasion, a village herd of cattle was
approval.
in
the
grazing
jungle, when, according to the herdsman, a tiger
attacked
and killed a cow. The tiger had only just
suddenly
thrown and killed this victim, when another cow stupidly

shown very

blundered on to him, and was also immediately killed. The

news was brought to me in camp about six miles away, and by
the time I got there I found that the first cow had been dragged
and half eaten, and had then been most carefully concealed
by the tiger under a bush. He had taken the trouble to cover
the remains of the carcass with dry leaves which he had scraped
up with his paws, and it looked as though he had every intention
this kill. The other cow was untouched, and
it had been killed.
where
Having suspended a
lying
large cloth from a branch above the untouched cow, I sat up in
a machan over the other kill. Just before dusk, however,
another member of my party arrived, and decided to sit up over

of returning to

was

still

TIGER NOISES

115

the uneaten carcass, about a hundred yards away. Unfortunately, his men made quite a lot of noise putting up his
machan, in consequence of which the tiger did not return to
either kill. But, just after the men had finished putting up the
machan and gone away, I distinctly heard the tiger give a
mumbling complaining moan. I was told later that the men
had seen him, and he had seen them when they arrived to put
up the machan, so that his suspicions had been aroused, and I
am sure he moaned to show his disapproval.

On

another occasion a tiger had killed one of my baits, and

dragged it about a hundred yards into dense jungle. He was a
very cautious old tiger, and I had had trouble with him before.
I therefore took very great pains to see that my sitting up
arrangements were perfect, and I also tied a leg of the kill to a
tree, so that he could not remove it before giving me a shot. The
tiger arrived just after dusk, and tried to drag the kill away, but
as he was half hidden behind a tree I decided to wait and let
him settle down to a meal. Instead of doing this, however, he
made off quickly, and a few seconds later moaned three or four
times from about fifty yards away. On finding he could not

drag the kill away, his suspicions had been aroused, and I have
no doubt he moaned to show his disapproval.
In several parts of India, boys tending cattle grazing in the
jungles adopt a novel method of rounding up animals straying
from the herd. They attach a cord about two yards long to one
end of a strip of hoop iron nine or ten inches long, and bend the
iron into the shape of a hook. By whirling this round and round
the head, in the manner of using a sling, it produces the sound
of a moaning tiger. The cattle immediately stampede, and
bunch together. It is not a loud sound, but it puts the fear of
the devil into cattle when they hear it.
Tigers sometimes give vent to the full-throated roar out of
sheer joie de vivre, and occasionally do so out of pique. The fullthroated A-oonh however, is different to the terrifying outburst
of roaring of the enraged tiger, who finds himself caught in a
It is also
beat and roars to try and frighten the beaters.
different to the terrible short sharp series of coughing roars
given by a charging tiger moving to the final attack.

A tigress with

cubs that are large enough to find their way

the
jungle, will roar to call them to come and feed at
through
a fresh kill. I have never, however, known a tiger go away and

CALL OF THE TIOER

Il6

start roaring after being missed, though a panther will certainly

do this, and will sometimes continue roaring defiantly from a

an hour or more. The moan is used for local

and replaces the roar on occasions when the roar would

safe distance for

effect,

be "overdoing

speak. Obviously, to go about the

occasions would inevitably give away his
If a tiger has
position to his most dreaded enemy man.
discovered men putting up a machan over his kill, he may show
it", so to

jungles roaring on

all

by roaring at sundown.
and sounds further away than the first,

his disapproval

that he does not intend to return to the

If the roar
it is

is repeated
a sure indication

kill.

Apart from the full-throated "A-oonh", which can be best

described as the "Call of the tiger", there are the angry roars as
described above, the "Pook" and the "Moan", which are the
calls and signals most ordinarily used by tigers. A tiger defending his kill or a tigress demonstrating to drive men away from
her cubs will use the angry roars described above. Then there
is the growl of the angry tiger, a deep threatening sound that
strikes terror into the hearts of all who hear it in the jungle, and
which, once heard, can never be forgotten. Finally, amongst
the greater noises there is the Woof! Woof! which is the noise
sometimes made by a tiger when he has been fired at and hit,
and sometimes, if I am not mistaken, when he has been
startled suddenly,

and finds himself in a fix.

first with those I have

Amongst
heard tigers make when returning to a kill, and which I think
were made with the intention of driving away other animals
from near their kills.
When sitting up one evening over a tiger kill, I had been in
the machan only about five minutes, when I heard a distinct
cough. Thinking it was one of my men returning to ask some
silly question, I leant over the side, and was just about to say
"Ab kia ho gia?" (What's up now?), when I saw all four feet
and the tip of the tail of a tiger moving through the bushes
about thirty yards away. The rest of his body was screened
from my view by intervening branches. I thanked my stars I
had not spoken This tiger hung about in the dense undergrowth near the kill for over an hour and a half, and I had a
most uncomfortable time trying to keep absolutely still, for,
although I could not see him, I knew he was there, listening

the lesser noises, I will deal

very carefully for any noise that would give

away my

presence.

TIGER NOISES

117

Just before dusk a jackal arrived to inspect the kill, but, after
taking one look in the direction of the tiger, he scuttled away

more quickly than he had come. Then the tiger himself came
on to the kill, and, picking up the remains of the carcass in his
mouth, tugged to snap the rope with which I had tied it. That
proved to be his last action on this earth.

When I told the shikaris about the cough, they said without
the slightest hesitation, that the tiger had undoubtedly coughed
to drive away some animal lurking somewhere near the
kill.

On

another occasion, I was sitting up over a tiger kill on a

dark
night, when I heard a noise which sounded like a
pitch
hiss
"Khuishhh". The noise was repeated three or
guttural
four times about thirty yards away, and then I heard the movement of some animal under my tree, but, although I peered
into the darkness for about half an hour, I saw nothing, and
nothing came on to the kill. Ten days later the same tiger killed
again in the same locality, but this time there was a fair moon,
and when I heard the same "Khuishhh", I looked in the
direction of the sound and presently saw a large tiger moving
towards the kill. He stopped every few paces and made this
noise, and finally disappeared into the shadows without
coming on to the kill. He was a very cunning old tiger, and
On the first
apparently understood the game thoroughly.
occasion there had been heavy rain a few hours earlier, and I
think the damp ground may have held the smell of the bare feet
of the men who had put up the machan. Actually, for unavoidable reasons, this had been done rather late in the evening.
On the second occasion, we had had to move the kill a few
yards to be able to see it from the machan, and the cunning old
tiger had spotted the difference and sheered off. Nevertheless,
having seen the tiger, and heard him making this peculiar noise,
I have no doubt he was in the habit of doing this before
approaching any of his kills, presumably with the intention of
warning intruders of his approach. I can vouch that he had
not seen me on either occasion. I have said above that the
motive probably was to drive some animal off his kill. One
might well ask why in such circumstances the tiger had not
moaned to carry out this purpose. I think the right answer
probably is that in this locality there were no elephants or
panthers or other dangerous animals and the tiger had therefore

CALL OF THE TIGER

Il8

used

this lesser

sound to clear the way before approaching the

kill.

have never heard a panther make any noises whatsoever

to a kill. The actual tread and approach too of
a panther is more silent than a tiger's, but then, of course, the
I

when returning

is a much larger and heavier animal, and this difference

understandable. I have nearly always heard a tiger approaching a kill, but never a panther.
The Timli tigress hissed and purred while her cubs were
playing round her, and also twice made that whistlingchirruping sound. About these noises I have nothing more to
say, except that in the Central Provinces I was often told by
native shikaris that tigers whistled to keep in touch with each
other while hunting in pairs, and I was astonished to hear the
same from a jungle man in the Dehra Boon jungles. I, myself,
have never heard this, though I can vouch for the whistlingchirrup made by the Timli tigress. It would not surprise me,
however, to find that tigers do whistle instead of "moaning", to
keep in touch with each other at close quarters, while hunting in

tiger

is

fairly

open jungle.

Some people

say a tiger sometimes neighs like a horse. I was

a
to
very experienced sportsman about this, and he said
talking

had never heard it, but that on one occasion,

many years ago, his brother had done so while sitting up over a
tiger kill. Apparently, when he went after dark to fetch his
brother down from the machan, he was accused of spoiling the
whole show by allowing his horse to neigh But as there was no
horse, and as it was unlikely anyone else's horse would have
been in the jungle at that time, and as a very thorough search
next day revealed no tracks of a horse anywhere, they had concluded that perhaps the tiger had made the neighing sounds.
Well, quite recently, I was sitting up over a tiger kill, and
that he himself

soon after dark

heard the dry leaves rustling under

my

tree,

and imagined the tiger had arrived. Then the animal neighed.
It was different to the neighing of a horse, but, nevertheless, it
was a neigh. It sounded rather more like "Hon-hon-hon-honhon !" than like the "Hin-hin-hin-hinhin !" of a horse, and each
note was a separate and distinct "hon". The neigh was then

repeated again a little further away. A few minutes later I

kill being tugged, and the tiger had arrived.
I was absolutely delighted that I had at last obtained proof

heard the

TIGER NOISES

HQ

through my own

ears that a tiger does neigh, but my delight

was very short-lived. When I told the shikari about it, he said
he thought the noise must have been made by a porcupine ! He

then imitated the noise, and it was so exactly like what I had
heard, that I had to believe him. He then went on to explain
that porcupines make this noise when they are alarmed, and
quoted the instance of one that had got a shock when it had
bumped into him in a field at night, and had immediately given
vent to its feelings by uttering this peculiar neigh.
I have known porcupines visit tiger kills, and have also
heard all the noises they generally make when doing so, but
this was a new one on me. The shikari said that in this case the
porcupine had probably come along after dark and discovered
the tiger sitting somewhere near the kill. It had then neighed

and had neighed again while scuttling away. Perhaps

right. Anyway, his explanation robbed me of the right

in alarm,

he was

having heard a tiger neigh

a tiger roars with rage he lashes his tail up and down,
and not sideways. The crude paintings one sees on walls in
certain parts of India, depicting rampant raging tigers with the
tips of their tails almost touching the backs of their heads, are,
though exaggerated, not without foundation on fact. There is
a general belief too amongst older Indians that the tiger has a
claw at the tip of its tail. This is partly true about the lion, who
has a clawlike bone concealed in the tuft of black hair at the
extremity of his tail. Apparently therefore the belief has been
handed down from the time when lions were more plentiful in
India, and the tiger is now erroneously believed to have the
same.
Indian shikaris say that the movements in a tiger's tail are
to claim

When

and intentions. If the tail is

means "No", but if its starts moving
up and down, then beware A charge is bound to follow.
Unlike the panther, a tiger does not lower his head to roar.
In uttering his saw-like roar, the panther lowers his head until
his nose is practically on the ground between his fore-paws, and,
to all intents and purposes, roars into the ground.
I am sure that some readers of this analysis of tiger noises
will have spotted an omission, and rather an important one.
sure indications of his temper

moving from side

to side,

it

When

tigers are mating, I believe they, like ordinary domesticated cats, go in for the most fearsome caterwauling. Although

I2O

CALL OF THE TIGER

have been within minutes of arriving,

have never yet arrived

I have had special
news
on
to
me
such
occasions, and have
messengers ready
bring
in
a
car to hear the
miles
rushed
several
out
frequently
serenading, but my luck has always failed me.
I

in time to hear one of these serenades.

CHAPTER

IX

CALLING UP
I ONCE FOUND myself in a particularly tigerless Shooting
Block and, after four or five uneventful days, had almost decided
pack up, when the Forest Guard, returning from his morning
rounds, told me he had heard a tiger calling in a coppice about
to

four miles away.

rifle

and

tiger call,

I practically leapt to

my

feet.

and with the Forest Guard

Armed with

as guide, I set off

immediately for the coppice.

It was about eleven o'clock when we got there, and it was
very hot. At that hour the tiger was, in all probability, sound
asleep, so we followed a small nullah into the dense coppice, to
get as near as possible to where we thought he might be lying
up during the heat of the day. Then, having chosen a wellconcealed spot, with a fairly good all-round view, I started
calling. I was immediately answered by a solitary grey monkey,
who shrieked his alarm from about a hundred yards away.
Every time I called, so did he. This went on for about twenty
minutes, and eventually became rather exasperating. Noticing
my irritation, the shikari suggested he and I should go forward
towards the monkey, while one of my trained men stayed
behind with the others to go on manipulating the calling contraption. To this I agreed, and we moved forward about fifty
yards to the bank of a narrow nullah, where we sat down. From
this new position we could see the monkey in his tree on the
other side. Our presence there seemed to give him a new sense
of safety, and he now proceeded to compose himself, squatting
on a branch, and regarding us with complacency. But when the
trained man tried to call, it sounded like a crocodile with a sore

I tried to control my wrath, but when he had done it

throat
half a dozen times without any signs of improvement, I sent the
shikari back to pull his ear. As the shikari got up to go, it was
on the tip of my tongue to tell him to leave my spare rifle with
me, but as I had a double barrelled -470 in my lap I dismissed
!

the thought as superfluous.

Anyway, the
lax

shikari

had hardly

CALL OF THE TIGER

122

gone when the monkey suddenly started a fresh tirade, and

began going through some frantic antics in his tree. A few
seconds later I saw the head and shoulders of a large tiger appear
in the bushes under the tree. He was about forty yards away.
Presently he advanced very slowly, with his head held high,
looking over the bushes, but it struck me he was looking halfdazed with sleep. I pushed my thumb against the safety-catch
of my

rifle to get it forward, but it refused to act, and, although

I practically took the skin off my thumb pushing, it just would
not move. The tiger was now standing in the open on the other

side of the nullah only twenty yards away. I slipped my hand

quietly into
pocket for a penknife, and with this I pushed

my

the safety-catch as hard as I could, but still it did not budge,

and now the tiger had come down the opposite bank, and was
crossing over the nullah straight towards me. In such circumstances

it was
would

know what

difficult to

me and

to do, but, in the

hopes

stood up. He saw me at

but
instead
of
he
once,
turning aside,
quickly crouched with
his eyes fixed on me, and once twice thrice I saw his whiskers
flick sharply upwards as he snarled at me, and I really believed
my hour had come. With a useless rifle in my hands, and the
that he

see

turn aside,
!

than fifteen yards away, I was entirely at his mercy.

the
By
grace of God a thought flashed into my mind I would
pretend I had not seen him I turned sideways and pretended
to look up the nullah, fully realizing that the next second would
tiger less

decide my fate. But there was no charge, and out of the corner
of my eye, I saw him swing round on his haunches, and spring
up the opposite bank into the jungle beyond. Meanwhile my
men were completely oblivious of what had been happening,

and when I told them about it, they really thought I was fooling.
But when they had all had an unsuccessful try at moving the
safety-catch, and had seen the fresh pug-marks of a big male
tiger in the sand of the nullah, only a few yards from where I
had been sitting, they became convinced of the truth. Very
sorrowfully I led the way back to camp.
It may seem strange that I had failed to test the safety-catch
before going into the jungle. One should, of course, always see
to that kind of thing before going after dangerous game, and I

have always done so since

About a month

earlier I

had

sat

up

for a panther in the rain, and I can only imagine some damp had
got into the mechanism and rusted it. Anyway, the safety-catch

CALLING UP

123

was

so firmly jammed, that I had to open up the rifle, and soak

the mechanism in kerosene oil, before I could persuade the
catch to move again. By three o'clock, however, the rifle was

in perfect working order, and by half past four I was back again
at the coppice. As I went past the spot where I had met the
hat.
tiger, I respectfully raised

my

After a short reconnaissance of the jungle, I selected a small

promontory, which overlooked a nullah, and faced a densely
wooded hillock about a hundred and fifty yards away. Between
me and the hillock the ground was pretty open and about

my level. Everywhere else the jungle was

and
the undergrowth and young trees in the
extremely dense,
it
to see more than a few yards. The
made
difficult
coppice
idea at the back of my mind was that by calling up from the
fifteen feet

below

promontory I could persuade the tiger to cross over from the

hillock, where I imagined he was, and come across the open
space towards me. At the end of the promontory, there was a
dried up tree-stump, about four feet high, which I selected as a
back-rest. My men had orders to do the calling up from behind
bushes a few yards to my rear.
Everything went beautifully. The jungles echoed to the call,
which seemed to be in capable hands. The evening sun,
however, was just above the tree-tops, and was shining into my
left eye. We had called only three or four times when I saw the
shadow of an animal moving across the hillock. I watched it
carefully, and, when it stopped, I imagined I could see the
head of a tiger, but in that dark dense jungle, it was impossible
to be quite sure about it, and presently the shadow moved on

and disappeared. I was convinced, however, that this was the

tiger, and I kept careful watch on the open patch, hoping to
see him creeping through the grass ahead of me. I must have
been watching for about five minutes, when I suddenly realized
my men had stopped calling, and I turned my head round to
signal them to go on doing so. As I looked over my right
shoulder, I had one of the biggest shocks of my life. There not
more than five yards away was the tiger sitting up on his
haunches like a dog. We saw each other simultaneously, and
I have never seen a tiger look more surprised in my life. I could
not have fired at him, except from my left shoulder, and as that
was something I would not have risked doing in such circumstances, I scrambled to my feet. While I was doing this the

CALL OF THE TIGER

124

tiger got down on to his elbows, fnd at the same time got up off
his haunches, so that he was down in front and up behind, and

in this extraordinary position started

moving backwards. Then

by swinging to his right he bounded away. By this time I had

found
feet and just had time to let off one barrel before he

my

disappeared. He went through that coppice like a train,

and the frantic alarm cries of the deer showed that he had
gone about a furlong at full speed. Well, that was that and
for the second time that day I felt I had had a miraculous
escape.
It was easy now to re-construct the whole picture.
The
shadow I had seen moving across the hillock was the tiger. He
had stood there for a minute or two in the dense jungle to listen
and locate our call. Having heard the call repeated, he pinpointed the sound, and then moved round in a semi-circle,
taking care to move under cover the whole way, to come up
from a flank and from behind. It was amazing how extremely
accurately he had judged the exact position of the call. When
I saw him sitting so close to me he was obviously listening
again. He must have been less than six yards from my men.
They swore they had not seen him coming, but when a friend
of mine went to that shooting block three weeks later they told
him a different story. Apparently they had seen the tiger

coming, but were so terror-stricken that they did not attempt to

together crouching as low
This accounted for the
as possible to avoid being seen.
me to look round.
had
caused
which
mysterious silence,
I had been sitting
but
been
well
had
concealed,
Actually, they
more or less in the open, with my back against the tree-stump,
and the tiger failed to see me only because I was sitting perfectly
still, and the rays of the evening sun were shining straight into
his eyes. That he had not smelt us just shows what a poor sense
of smell a tiger has.
He was a fine big male with a good ruff, and would have
made a splendid photograph. One point was of special interest
on both occasions he had not answered the call, but had

warn me, and had simply huddled

approached silently to investigate.

There was absolutely no blood trail, and though darkness
prevented me from following up for more than about fifty
yards, I went there very early next morning, and discovered I
had missed him dean. And what was more, he had gone

CALLING UP
through the coppice,

and

killed

125

one of

my

baits,

about a mile

away.

remember once

discussing with a very experienced sportsin the Nilgiris the art of calling up deer by imitating the
call of a fawn. He said the local inhabitants often did this, but
I

man

many had

while doing so. While hiding and

themselves
had been stalked and killed by
calling up they
in
and
mistake
for the deer they had been
panthers
tigers
This
with
the
imitating.
experience
tiger made me realize how
this
could
easily
happen.
When we discovered that the tiger had killed a bait, my
shikari

lost their lives

wanted

me

twice spared my
shot at him in a

excuse

now

sit

up

for him,

but

I refused.

when he could have taken it.

moment of tense excitement, but

to repeat the mistake.

It

him from

He had

had

there

fired

was no

would have been pretty

him feed on the

the safety of a tree. I let

to his heart's content.

vile to shoot
kill

to

life

"Calling up" does away with the necessity of tying out a live
by the tiger. This is a consideration which

bait to be killed

speaks for itself, and, for the humanely minded sportsman, it

requires no further recommendation. Furthermore it gives the
sportsman the opportunity to meet his powerful quarry on the
level,

and

also to see this magnificent

behaving and moving normally

animal in broad daylight,

natural surroundings, as
driven forward by a horde of
Every sportsman decides on the methods of
likes
he
and eventually fixes his own limit to the
best,
shooting
risks he is prepared to take, but for those who are willing to
chance their arm, I can recommend calling up from the
ground as one of the most thrilling ways of shooting a tiger.
There will be many failures before a sportsman succeeds in
mastering the art of imitating a tiger, but I am convinced that
anyone who succeeds in doing so, and also succeeds in calling
up his tiger either to shoot or photograph him, will be thrilled

opposed to seeing
screaming beaters.

it

in

its

when

with his experience.

I have never gone in for photographing

tigers, or, for that

matter, any other subject. The primitive instinct has been
predominant in my nature, and for me the rifle has always had

more appeal than the camera, though I must frankly admit I

have often wished I had had a camera with me in the jungle.
Many sportsmen have tried to photograph tigers, but, if I am

CALL OF THE TIGER

126

not mistaken, very few have succeeded in doing so, except by

flashlight at night. I cannot help feeling that excellent results
could be achieved in daylight by using the calling up method,
to bring tigers up to or across the line of a camera. As already
explained, one of its greatest advantages is that it brings this
nocturnal animal out of its hiding place in broad daylight, and
with concealed cameras I have no doubt one could take some
wonderful movie pictures. Provided the tigers were allowed to
shape their own stories, the pictures could be woven into a
most thrilling and fascinating jungle romance. I sincerely hope
the idea I am putting forward may inspire other lovers of the
Indian jungle to produce such a picture. I know of no better
way of attracting a tiger to a selected spot in daylight than by
imitating his

On

call.

another occasion, a thousand miles or more away from

the last incident, I sat

up

for a tiger

who had

killed a

cow and
and
had

into very dense jungle. It had been a difficult

The tiger
hair-raising business following up the drag.

dragged

it

dragged it through almost impenetrable undergrowth into a

deep ravine, where, owing to the bamboos, and entwining
creepers, it was almost dark even at midday. I had a shikari
with me, and when we were nearing the kill, the tiger growled.
We could not see him, and presently, when he moved away, we
dragged the half-eaten cow into a small open space, a few yards
square, and there we pegged the carcass down. The only place
for a machan was in a tree about thirty yards away, at the top
of a slope. This was barely eight feet from the ground, but from
nowhere else could the carcass be seen, so there it had to be. The
whole ravine was dank and eerie, and the one thought that

me was, "What if I only wound the tiger in this deatha place?"

of
trap
The tiger was reputed to be a monster. I had the machan
thoroughly well camouflaged, and prepared myself to sit up the
whole night through. I sent my men away with orders to
When daylight vanished a threereturn in the morning.
shone
moon
brightly down on the jungle, but, in spite of
quarter
invisible in the deep shadows of the
remained
the
carcass
this,
ravine. I had to depend entirely on my ears, but, instead of
hearing the tiger come on to the kill, I heard him, every half
hour or so, circling round and round my tree, and once or
twice he came right under my machan. Needless to say, I sat
struck

CALLING UP

127

It was a
perfectly still, but kept one finger round the trigger
most unenviable position to be in. Apparently the tiger had a
pretty shrewd idea of exactly where I was. As the hours wore
on I found myself in difficulties with cramp in my legs, but I
dared not move. About midnight the situation worsened.
There was a heavy dew, and the trees began a drip drip drip
that eventually blotted out all other sounds of movement in the
jungle. I could no longer hear the tiger moving and had little
hope of being able to hear him, even if he came to the kill.
!

Then

at half past two in the

jungle became as black as ink.

morning the moon

set, and the

out of my skin

nearly jumped
a chital stag belled his alarm a few yards behind me. He
had evidently seen the tiger.
I strained my eyes to catch any signs of movement near the
kill. Striped forms began appearing before my tired eyes, and
once, when I thought I heard a tug at the. kill, I turned on my
torch, but there was nothing there. I cursed myself for having
done this, because, if the tiger happened to see it he would clear

when

good and all. However, about half an hour later there

was a loud noise, and there was no mistaking this time that the
tiger was tugging at the kill. Pointing my rifle in the direction
of the kill, I pressed the torch switch, and there was the tiger
But he was not actually on the kill. He had just stepped back,
and when the light fell on him he turned to bolt. As he did so
I aimed quickly at his ribs and fired, the front part of him
off for

He disalready having disappeared behind a tree-trunk.

in
me
to
curse
At
luck.
silence,
my
complete
leaving
appeared
most, I had only wounded him, and that was the very last
thing I had wanted to do in that terrible jungle. I swung my
torch from side to side, hoping to see some trace of the tiger,
but all I discovered was a whitish scar in the tree-trunk that
looked like a bullet hole. I hoped it was and that the tiger had

escaped unscathed.
Well, there was nothing more to be done about that.
stretched

and

and straightened

my

stiff

suddenly realized that I literally

pulled up my blanket and went to sleep.
I

dawn

was mid winter,

was stiff and frozen. I

limbs.

It

I was awakened by a sudden noise.

I
and a few seconds later the noise was repeated.
The tiger was roaring about fifty yards away. There was no
mistaking the meaning the tiger was obviously wounded.

Just before

listened intently,

CALL OF THE TIGER

128

At

first light I

distance.

heard the welcome sound of voices in the

My men were coming to fetch me down.

The

shikari

whistled when he was a hundred yards away, and I answered

with a whistle, which was the signal to approach cautiously.
They then approached in silence, with apprehension written
I whispered that the tiger had been
the shikari and I went quietly down to the
kill to pick up the trail. Yes, there was blood and the trail led
straight into a tangled mass of dense undergrowth and
all

over their faces.

wounded.

Then

creepers. We had to follow, either on all fours, or bent almost

double, and with every nerve tensed we pushed slowly forward
through that leafy tunnel, peering ahead to try and discover
the tiger. It took us nearly half an hour to do about fifty yards,

greatly relieved when we emerged from this

a narrow marshy nullah, with high grass and
into
death-trap
one
side and dense grass and jungle on the other.
the
reeds on
Here the tiger had been lying down in a pool of blood.
then

and we were

We

moved forward

again, and had just discovered that the trail,

led
into the jungle and not into the marsh, when
fortunately,
the grass ten yards ahead of us began swaying, and the tiger let

out a blood-curdling roar. Had he been able to he would have

charged, but it seemed to me he had either decided not to and
moved off or he must have been too crippled. The grass and
bushes ahead of us presented an almost impenetrable barrier,
and, even if we could have pushed our way in, we could not have
seen even a yard ahead. I ordered the shikari to fire a shot with
my shotgun, while I awaited a charge. Nothing happened. We
decided to retrace our steps and give the matter a little more
time for consideration.
It is extraordinary how much a wash and a good breakfast
can do for one's morale. Feeling refreshed, I took half a dozen
good tree climbers, and the shikari back with me, and we now
worked on a plan. I put the men one by one up trees in a

round the jungle in which the tiger was lying, to watch

complete silence, and report immediately if they
discovered anything. Three or four hours went by without

circle

and

listen in

anyone discovering anything. Then I called like a tiger not a

loud resounding roar, but what might be called a gentle roar.
No answer. Then I called again, and about a minute later the
tiger spoke. Presently he spoke again, and very quietly we now
started concentrating our efforts on trying to pinpoint his
;

CALLING UP

To

129

him

in that dense undergrowth was quite

position.
his
but
voice
helped us to locate him, and presently
impossible,
we discovered that every time he spoke, the long grass near a
see

certain spot could be seen moving just a little. By climbing up a

I was able to get a better view, and,
although I could not

bank,

see the tiger, I

he was, and

was able eventually

to decide

more or

less

finally risked a shot at the unseen target.

where
There

was a scuffle with grunting and groaning, then heavy breathing,

and at last
Silence. My aboriginal help-mates had now
collected round me, and they proclaimed the tiger "Dead".
Men of the jungle have very sharp hearing, and they argued
that if the tiger were alive they would be able to hear him
.

breathing. I cannot say this reassured me, but after waiting

half an hour we decided to go and see.
men literally

My

hacked their way through the undergrowth, while I accompanied them with my rifle at the ready to deal with any
emergency. But we found the tiger dead. My first bullet had
hit him behind the lung, and the second in the chest. He was
an enormous male.

Now

let

us go back to

invited a friend

and

my

Madhya Pradesh. I had

me in a shoot. Neither of
the jungle, and now were very

beloved

his wife to join

them had ever seen a

tiger in

anxious to shoot one. It was not long before we got a kill, and
as it was in a splendid place for sitting up, I gave my friend the
chance. Just about dusk, my shikari who was with him heard
the tiger approaching, and quietly nudged him to get ready.
Unfortunately, just at that moment, the shikari's throat started
playing up, and he felt he would either have to cough or choke,
a sensation which in a moment of intense excitement often

overtakes one at the wrong time when sitting up for a tiger.

Anyway, in trying to stop himself from coughing, he made a
few indescribable noises that frightened the tiger, and caused
to run away
Tigers never hesitate to do this when they
hear any suspicious noise near a kill. A couple of hours later I
went to bring my friend home, and found him almost heartbroken over the chance he had missed.
The tiger did not return to the kill that night, but did so the
night after, and on the following day we decided to have a beat.
It was the beginning of November, and the grass was still green
after the monsoon, and as high as a man's shoulders. All we

him

CALL OF THE TIGER

I3O

could muster was forty men as beaters and, as this was not
enough to cope with the situation, I decided to send my shikari
with them, to fire a shotgun occasionally and so keep the morale
going, a very necessary factor when wading through high grass.
It would also ensure that the tiger would keep well ahead of the
beat. We divided the men equally between stops and beaters,
and had two machans one for my friend and a shikari, and
the other for his wife and myself. For various reasons, however,
we were not able to start the beat before three o'clock in the
afternoon.

Soon after the beat began, I heard the stops tapping on

right, and it looked as though the tiger was heading towards
friend.

few minutes

later,

however,

my
my

caught a glimpse of

the tiger sneaking through the jungle in front of our machan,

about sixty yards away. He vanished almost at once, and as the
beat came nearer and nearer, I began thinking he must have

succeeded in slipping between the stops to our left. A few

minutes later, however, a magnificent tiger stepped out of the
dense jungle into the sandy nullah, about thirty yards ahead of
us. At that precise moment the shikari with the beaters fired a
shot, and the tiger stopped and looked over his shoulder towards
the beat. He was a huge heavily-built tiger, with a wonderful
ruff, and a truly enormous head. I whispered to my companion
to take her shot, and when she fired, so did I. The tiger fell
forward on to his head, and lay kicking in the sand. My
companion was about to fire again, but I stopped her. With her
375 and my -470 bullets in him, I did not think any more was
necessary. I lowered my rifle to re-load, and as I did so the
tiger jumped up, turned round, and bolted towards the beaters.
Fortunately all beaters had been warned to stop shouting if
they heard a shot, and to remain silent for a minute or two
before continuing the beat. But, if they heard me blow my
whistle they were to climb trees immediately. I now blew my
whistle for all I was worth. Then I shouted and warned my
friend not to get down from his machan.
Half an hour later, followed by my shikari with a shotgun, and
with three men to climb trees, I went forward to investigate.
The blood trail was clearly visible, and we followed it for about
thirty yards to the edge of the high grass into which the tiger
had disappeared. Here we put a man up a tree. He climbed to
about twenty feet, but stupidly kept on looking in the wrong

CALLING UP

131

In sheer exasperation, my shikari said to him in a

hoarse whisper, "Oh, son of an owl, look this way !" As he did

direction.

the tiger sprang up in the grass ahead, and charged, filling

the air with the most terrifying roars. I could not see him in
the high grass, but the "Owl" in the tree saw what happened.

so,

me there was a broken tree-stump, half

in colour, about six feet high. The tiger in
his rage mistook this for a man and mauled it, tearing off great
chunks with his teeth and claws. Then he turned, growling and
few yards ahead of

rotten

and whitish

and made

grunting,

off into the grass,

where he remained

growling in a semi-exhausted condition. The owl said he was

wounded at the junction of neck and shoulder and also above
the right elbow. Hoping to dislodge him I made the shikari
a shot into the grass, but, instead of charging, he disappeared into the high grass beyond.

fire

It
it

was getting

late.

The sun was setting, and

decided to

call

a day.

my friend and his wife wanted to help me in the follownext

ing up
morning, but I would not hear of it. I considered
them too inexperienced, and begged them to stay at home. I
went out very early, and was back in the jungle at the first
light of day. I cannot say I relished the task before me. The
grass in places was right over my head, and the tiger, I feared,
Both

would

still

be very

much

alive.

following up was a very slow and tiring business. We

advanced very cautiously, putting men up trees to right and

The

left, to peer into the sea of grass ahead, while the shikari
followed the trail, and I advanced with my rifle at the ready,
and my eyes skinned to look out for the tiger, not only ahead,
but to right and left as well, to avoid walking into an ambush.

We

found the

had

last left

tiger

him

had gone only a few yards from where we

and then he had spent the

the evening before,

night, or part of it, thrashing down the grass for several yards
around. After that he seemed to have recovered himself, and

wandered

leaving only a very light blood trail, just a small

or fifteen yards or so, and the following up beten
drop every
came a very tricky business. I knew from long experience that
off,

when that happened, one could practically never hope to come

up with the tiger again. However, we followed doggedly on for
hour upon hour, until tired and worn out, we gave in at about
four o'clock in the afternoon and went home.

CALL OF THE TIGER

132

Early next morning I organized what I call a "crow party".

Taking a dozen men with me I put them up trees one at a time,
in a wide circle round the nearest water, to watch and look out
for any unusual commotion in the jungle, such as the alarm
cries of monkeys, deer, peafowl etc., and take note of the
behaviour of crows and vultures. Nothing happened, but the
next day one of my "crows'* discovered some tracks which he
swore were the tracks of the wounded tiger. I decided I would
go out with him and try "Calling up" that evening.
When I called I was answered by some animal about half a
mile away, but neither my old shikari nor I could make out
what animal it was. From the funny noises it made, we
thought it might have been a bear or even a very hoarse barking deer, but the "crow" said he had heard the same noise in
the same place in the morning, and he was sure it was the tiger,
gone hoarse through repeated calling in his distress. To make
this assertion more convincing he added, "We men of the
jungle know that a tiger has a hundred ways of calling!"
Anyway, I called and it called, and we both went on calling till
it got dark, and then I went home.
After dinner, as it was a beautiful moonlight night I suggested
that

my

and

friend

his wife

accompanied

me

to the

same spot

We

went out in the car, and had the

to try more calling up.
shikari and a motor driver with us. When we got there, I made
the shikari do the calling up, while I stood by the car to listen.

My

friends

remained where they were in the back

seat of the

car.

The shikari called and called for about twenty minutes,

out response from anywhere.

window, and was

just telling

my

put

my

with-

head through the

friends I thought the tiger

had "hung up his receiver", when the driver, who had wandered
back of the car, dashed to my side with a look of terror on
his face. All he could say was "Sher!" (Tiger!). The shikari
leapt on to the bonnet with a torch, and he too then said,
"Quick, Sahib The tiger !" My friends jumped out of the car
with their rifles, and to our amazement a huge tiger stepped out
of the jungle on to the road, in the full light of our torches about
thirty yards away. Their shots rang out and the tiger dropped

to the

in his tracks.

This tiger measured ten feet four inches over curves, and was
had a normal-

forty-four inches high at the shoulder, but he

CALLING UP
sized

head and no distinguishing ruff.

He was not

the

wounded

tiger.

The

local inhabitants, however,

were convinced that

this

and the wounded

tiger were one and the same animal, and this

belief persisted until we finally killed the original tiger, a fine

big tiger with a big ruff and enormous head, and wounds
corresponding exactly to the wounds described by the "owl",

the-ever-to-be-remembered "Ullu ka Bachcha!"

CHAPTER X

MOTICHUR
FOREST GUARDS
True

it is

are usually very happy, contented people.

to live in isolated, lonely places, but have

they have

much authority, and, being provided with uniform to wear and

well-built houses to live in, are, in their own way, the little kings
of the forest within their

own domains.

When, however, I
Ghowki on my way through to
Motichur, I was taken aback to find the Forest Guard looking
most unhappy. My shikaris who had arrived there a day
ahead of me were consoling him, and, if I am not mistaken, had
been helping him drown his sorrows in a modicum of toddy.
It was a simple story. The Forest Guard's milch buffalo had

stopped at Koelpurra Forest

strayed with her two year old calf into the tall grass at the edge
of the forest a couple of hundred yards away. There, about an
hour earlier, the calf had been attacked by a panther. The
mother had immediately charged and driven the panther away,
but the calf was now in a dying condition.
While motoring through the Kansrao sanctuary a few
minutes earlier I had come across a panther walking leisurely
down the Forest Motor road. I had put the car into second
gear, and followed him slowly, keeping about fifty yards behind
him, but he had completely ignored the car behind him and
had continued down the road without paying the slightest
attention to it. It was not until I had accelerated and come to
within twenty yards of him that he condescended to look over
his shoulder, and then, having walked quietly into the short
grass at the side of the road, he had crouched and half-snarled

at the car as

it

went by. Surely

this

must have been the

culprit:
I asked to see the calf, and was led into a small thatched shed,
where I found the victim lying semi-conscious, with deep fang

obviously the work of a tiger.

Guard did not agree that it was a tiger, and begged
me to lend him a gun to shoot the panther, which he said had
caused him endless loss from time to time. If only I would lend

marks in the nape of its neck

The

Forest

134

MOTIGHUR

135

him a gun, he would go out at once into the jungle, and avenge
these losses, even if it cost him his life to do so. Realizing that
it was the toddy speaking, I tried to pacify him
by promising
to shoot his hated enemy next day. Nothing, however, short of
shooting his enemy himself would satisfy him, and he swore by
the gods that he would not be able to eat, drink, or rest until
so. He would take the semi-conscious calf back
into the jungle where it had been attacked, would sit over it,

all

he had done

and would himself shoot the Shaitan (devil) that very same
evening, or would die gloriously in his attempt to do so.
It was no good arguing with the poor man. I mixed a few
grains of Permanganate in water, and had the calf's wounds
thoroughly washed, fully realizing, however, that nothing I
could do would save its life. The fangs had been deeply buried.

The calf was already breathing heavily, and its eyes had become listless and glazed. Sitting beside it, and now calmly
chewing the cud, was

its mother, fortunately quite oblivious of

the precarious condition of her calf, which only an hour earlier
she had so gallantly risked her life to save. What thrilling

some of these dumb animals could tell, if only they had

tell them
What tragedies entered their lives, and
how very little the outside world knew about them. A scene
such as the one now before my eyes would bring people face to
face with realities.
It was a pathetic sight, which at that
stories

the power to

moment made even me

very strongly that the Forest

should be brought
right,
to book as early as possible.
I
did not lend the
Although
Forest Guard a gun, I gave him and my shikaris instructions to
do everything in their power to bring about the downfall of the
murderer.
Having told them to report progress to me at
Motichur I then continued on my way.

Guard was

feel

and that

this cattle-killer

Forest Bungalows, in the Winter time, are always in great

demand. Touring Forest Officers, and Civil Officers on duty
have always, quite rightly, had a prior claim on accommodation, and, on this occasion I had had to wait eleven days to gain
admission to the Forest Rest House. However, now that I was
there at last, I was fully determined to enjoy to the very utmost

the four days still remaining at my disposal for a shoot. Motichur had the reputation of being the best shooting block in the
Dehra Dun Forest Division. Fourteen years earlier I had once
had a permit for this block in the latter half of March. On that

CALL OF THE TIGER

occasion I had sent my men on ahead with half a dozen buffalo
baits, and had arrived a few days later, only to find that four
of the buffaloes had been killed by wild elephants, and that my

men were

too terrified to enter the jungle.

As nobody

is

allowed to shoot an elephant unless it happens to be a proscribed

rogue, the presence of a herd of elephants in a shooting block is
a nuisance, and can sometimes completely upset all arrangements for a shoot. However, it was now only February, and the
wild elephants had not so far crossed over the River Ganges on
their annual visit to Motichur.

Having settled into the bungalow, I spent the evening

exploring the jungle bordering on the wide "Rao" at the back
of the house. In the course of an hour I came across two herds
of chital such as I had not seen for many years. Deer were shot
indiscriminately during World War II, and, in many places,
the once large herds of chital had been exterminated. It was

my eyes to see, once again, even a few heads

gathered together in one place, and I stood and watched them
for some time. Apart from that, however, I saw nothing else,
and did not come across any tiger tracks anywhere, but, when
I was returning at dusk, my attention was arrested by loud
cracking sounds, like the cracking of bones by a tiger eating his
At first I could see nothing, but presently half a dozen
kill.
wild pigs emerged from some grass and the cracking noises then
continued as before. They were biting and cracking the hard
shells of a round jungle fruit, the name of which I do not know,
but which was lying about here and there under the trees on
the ground, and, judging by the keen competition going on, the
fruit was evidently considered a delicacy. The pigs were so busy
running hither and thither in search of more, that they had not
noticed me, but, as it was getting dark, it was difficult to pick
out an easy shot. When eventually three or four pigs were
bunched together, offering a fine big mark to aim at, I decided my chance had come, and fired. To my astonishment,
instead of bagging only one, I knocked over two with the one
refreshing to

bullet.

Just before dawn next morning I was awakened by the alarm

of a herd of chital, calling quite close to the Forest

cries

Bungalow.

They seemed very

agitated,

and no wonder,

for

presently the jungle echoed to the roaring of a panther, who

had apparently failed in his effort to catch his quarry, and was

MOTICHUR

137

now loudly vowing his vengeance on the herd. Or was I wrong?

He had

repeated his sawing note seven or eight times before

pausing for breath.

dawn

At

Was he

calling

up

his

mate?

out to explore, and discovered the tracks

early
of the panther, but there were no signs of a kill anywhere. I
was still investigating when I heard men calling me from the
I set

bungalow.
Realizing that they probably had something
to
tell
me, I returned to the house immediately.
important
There I found the shikari from Koelpurra.
After my
the
Forest
had
he
and
the
Guard
departure
previous evening,
out
to
the
where
the
calf
latter's
buffalo
had
been
gone
spot
attacked, and found the fresh tracks of a tigress, which confirmed my diagnosis of the fang marks on the calf's neck. They
had then followed the tracks of the tigress for about a mile, and
had tied out a bait. Now he had come to report that the bait
had been killed and dragged by the tigfess into some dense
jungle in the vicinity. This was quick work. After having
breakfast, I left for Koelpurra in
arrival there the shikaris

On

my
and

car.

had an argument.

thought the tracks were of a young male tiger, but they insisted
it was a tigress. As a rule
tigresses have long narrow feet. The
is narrow, and therefore looks
long in comparison to the
male pad, which is wider. The toes too of a tigress are thinner,
and often, if one is in doubt, this serves as the most certain

pad

indication.

We now followed up the drag, which, fortunately, went only

fifty yards into the dense jungle, and there we found the
well concealed in some thick undergrowth. It was a quiet

about
kill

and the chances of bagging the

locality,

seemed

to

me

to

tiger by sitting up
be better than those of getting him out in a

beat, so I chose the position for

machan, and left the
shikaris to do the rest, telling them that I would return to sit up
at about four o'clock that afternoon.

my

When

I returned I

found everything ready.

The

shikaris

had heard the tiger growling while they were putting

the
machan.
up
Apparently the tiger was lurking about in the
near
at hand, and there was every indication that
jungle quite
he would probably return quite early to the kill.
At about five o'clock the chital started calling a furlong or
more away, and a quarter of an hour later I heard noises and
looked down to find the tiger had arrived and was feeding on
said they

CALL OF THE TIGER

138

had not heard him coming, and he had not lifted or

kill as tigers generally do to get rid of the ants and
hornets which invariably find their way into the carcass. He
had arrived very quietly, and had straightway got down to a
feed. The shikaris had rather overdone the clearing of brushwood and branches between me and the kill, and the tiger
looked up every now and again, as though apprehending
danger from above. He had not seen me, however, and I
watched him for quite a time. It seemed ridiculous that he had
come back quite so early in broad daylight, and that he was so
the

kill.

shaken the

oblivious of

hard that

my

presence, only ten yards away.

had had a camera instead of a

sitting full length

away

at the

kill,

rifle,

wished very
he was,

for there

out behind him, chewing

dog would at a bone. He stopped
and raised his head to listen, and I must

with his

tail straight

just as a

feeding once or twice,

was sorely tempted to shoo him away, but remembering

the buffalo calf and my promise to the Forest Guard, I very
reluctantly raised my rifle, and, more in sorrow than in anger,
admit

closed the previous day's account.

My shikaris, who had not expected quite such an early finish,

had gone

off to the Koelpurra Forest Chowki, I think to have

another look at that bottle of toddy, but, according to themselves, to have some tea. On hearing my shot, however, they
and everyone in the neighbourhood rushed to see the tiger, and
presently, having been assured by me that it was dead, a dozen
or more very willing pairs of hands were helping to place the

dead

tiger

on the

string

The hammock

hammock which

carry for this

with strong loops through

purpose.
which poles can be passed to form a stretcher, or even ropes can
be used to hoist the tiger off the ground, and carry him out of
the jungle. Without some device of this kind it often takes much
time and trouble to get a tiger as far as a road.
is

fitted

The Forest Guard was jubilant, and helped carry the tiger to
Many others, who had had cattle killed from time to
recounted their losses, and laid all blame on the
now
time,
the car.

unfortunate tiger they were carrying.

Incidentally, it had
turned out to be a young male and not a tigress after all, but
the most remarkable thing about him was that he had a large
thick porcupine quill embedded about three inches in his cheek,
a couple of inches below his right eye, while the rest of the quill,
about five inches in length, was sticking straight out just above

MOTICHUR
his whiskers.

It

139

gave him

quite a comical look and was so

must have caused him considerable

awkwardly placed that it

pain every time he moved his jaws to eat. Perhaps it was this
that had made him take to cattle killing, and probably was the
reason why he had not dragged the kill more than fifty yards,
and also the reason why he had refrained from shaking or
dragging the carcass again when he returned to the kill. The
quill must have been stuck into his cheek for some time, as the
hair all round the wound had slipped, and it looked rather like
an old scar. Apart from this he was in very good condition, and
had a marvellous winter coat. He was, however, not quite
fully grown, being only the size of a big tigress.
It is an amazing thing that although monkeys

and langurs
are such intelligent animals, they immediately give their alarm
cries even if they see a dead tiger going down the road tied on
to the back of a car. And they do the same if they see a dead
leopard slung to a pole, even though he is being carried upside
down, and will give the alarm if they so much as see a tiger or
leopard skin. On this occasion they screamed their alarm when
I drove back to the bungalow with the tiger tied on to the back
of the car, and next morning, when the tiger was taken out
under the trees to be skinned, it caused panic amongst a troupe
of langurs near the bungalow. These cursed and swore so
much from the safety of the trees that, just to see what they
would do, I had the tiger carried to the foot of one of the trees
in their midst, and left him there half-hidden by some bushes.
The big male langurs then came down lower and lower in their
trees, with much swearing, and a great show of bravado, and
eventually descended either on to or very near the ground.

Some bounded across an open space between one tree and

another, sometimes dangerously near the tiger. This made me
wonder whether tigers and panthers would take advantage of
such behaviour, and seize the odd gallant langur, when, for
the sake of playing to the gallery, he happened to venture just a
little

too close to be able to escape from a sudden rush. It is

imagine how otherwise a panther or tiger could catch

difficult to

a langur, for they are gifted with the keenest eyesight in daylight of all the animals in the jungle, and are astoundingly
agile. When frightened and in a hurry the tremendous speed
they attain in bounding from tree to tree has to be seen to be
A langur will jump from the top of one tree to
believed.

I4O

CALL OF THE TIGER

another thirty feet below, and can at the same time do a long
jump of well over twenty feet. To see them at their best one
should see them do this in the high hills, where bounding from
one tree to another thirty feet lower down a precipice is

nothing beyond the normal ability of the average langur.

Having spent a good few hours seeing to the skinning of the
tiger, and to the treatment of the skin, I had just sat down to
enjoy an afternoon cup of tea, when a herd of chital started
calling on the hill a couple of furlongs from the bungalow.
They were calling hysterically, and it was quite obvious they
were being harassed by some enemy. I immediately whistled

my shikari, and off we went together to investigate. Leaving

a spur of the hill between ourselves and the chital, we scrambled
to the top, and then advanced along the crest under cover of
On
the bamboo clumps covering that particular hillside.
the
of
still
callend
we
could
the
chital
the
hear
reaching
ridge
ing about seventy-five yards down the hill below us, but could
not see them. Very slowly we wormed our way down the slope
keeping out of sight by making use of all available cover, until
at last we reached a bamboo clump, from under which we
caught sight of three stags, one with magnificent antlers,
standing shoulder to shoulder about fifty yards away and gazing
into the grass ahead of them. I studied them through my fieldup

Their noses were twitching, and they kept throwing up

which was blowing towards them
from the patch of grass they were watching. Every few seconds
one or other of them stamped his forefoot and called, but now
the calling was no longer hysterical. It had become querulous,
and sometimes finished up on a sort of note of inquiry. For the
life of me I could not see anything in the grass ahead of them,
glasses.

their heads to sniff the breeze

though, obviously, there was something there. I had just put

my field-glasses down beside me when I saw a panther sneak
out of the grass and get behind a bamboo clump, where he was
hidden from our view. I very nearly got up to go after him, but
fortunately thought better of it. Either he or the chital would
have seen me, and both would have disappeared in a trice. We
sat perfectly still, and about a minute later the panther reappeared, retreating up wind. After going a few yards he
turned to come up the hill towards us, hoping, I am sure, to be
able to sneak right round, and come up from behind the stags,
who were still gazing stupidly into the grass ahead of them. He

MOTICHUR
had not seen

and

us,

I allowed

him

him

141
to

come

to within thirty

spite of being badly hit, he

roared and disappeared into the grass. There, however, we had
very little difficulty in finding him, for he had gone only a few

yards before bowling

over.

In

and collapsed.
may seem odd that a herd of chital

yards,
It

will for preference park

a Forest Bungalow during the day. Actually, there is
a great deal of sense in this seeming madness, for they have
learnt from experience that a poacher with a gun does not
venture into the jungle in any vicinity where he could be caught
easily by a Forest Guard.
A few minutes after returning to the bungalow, I got down
to a fresh cup of tea, and then to some more skinning. I felt
very much inclined to leave the skinning of the panther over
till the next
morning, but, as things turned out later, it was
as
well that I did not do so.
perhaps just
Fairly early next morning the shikari from Koelpurra
arrived post haste on a bicycle to say a tiger was roaring at the
foot of a hill near there.
I hastily collected my calling up
and
set
off
paraphernalia,
immediately in my car, but by the
time I got there the men at Koelpurra said the tiger had gone
up the hill calling, and crossed over the crest into the jungles
beyond. I decided to follow, but it took me and my men the
best part of an hour to scramble through the very dense undergrowth and grass to reach the top of the hill. Once there, I
began calling, and continued to do so for about half an hour,
but without any answering call from the tiger. This was most
disappointing, and now, of course, it was difficult to guess which

itself near

had taken. To find any tracks in those grassy

was
surroundings
impossible. Staying where we were was useless, so it was now a toss up between going on or going home.
direction the tiger

Finally, I decided to go on, but very soon found myself regretting this decision. Every step seemed to take us further and

further into a tangled mass of grass

and undergrowth,

until

along.

we were literally fighting our way through to get

My men, who were all very much shorter than myself,

seemed
seemed

to catch

eventually

to avoid

and up the side of another

my great joy, emerged on to a long grassy
with fewer trees and no undergrowth. As I stopped to

far side of the hill,

hill, and then, to
slope,

most of the branches and cobwebs which

me every time in the face We went down the

up a deep

ravine,

CALL OF THE TIGER

142

mop my brow and admire the view, I realized that this would
be an ideal spot for calling up. My call from there would be
heard in the deep valley below, and in the range of hills beyond,
and if the tiger did condescend to come towards us, it would be
far easier for us to see him than for him to see us. Telling my
men to hide themselves in the grass, I called. Imagine our
delight when, at about the third call, we heard the tiger answer
from the hills beyond. He was more than a mile away, but at
each call he seemed to be coming nearer. Our excitement grew
Call answered call until at last the tiger was only
intense.
about half a mile away. Here, however, he apparently decided
to stop, and nothing we could do would persuade him to
advance any further towards us. But although he refused to
come any nearer, he still continued to answer our call. Leaving
a shikari to continue calling, I then went forward with the
intention of stalking him, or of intercepting him if he eventually
changed

his

mind, and started coming towards the

call.

Un-

fortunately for me, what looked like a perfectly straightforward

hillside was in fact a series of small ridges separated by deep

and by the time I had waded through the waist-high

and
gone up hill and down dale half a dozen times, I had
grass
realized
that to see the tiger in that grass would be very
fully
nearly impossible. Besides, the tiger too had got fed up, and
had ceased calling.
I now took up a commanding position on a small knoll,
and sent the man accompanying me back to the shikari,
with orders to join me at once, and to bring the call with
nullahs,

him.

was nearly an hour before the shikari joined me, and when
again there was no response from the tiger. As it was
now after four o'clock, and as my men had had nothing to eat,
we decided to call it a day, and make tracks for home. We also
decided to split up into two parties. The men were to go back
to the car at Koelpurra and get the chauffeur to drive them
back to Motichur, while I, accompanied by the shikari carrying
the tiger-call, would descend into the valley, and then take the
shortest route home. This seemed the most reasonable arrangement. While sauntering homewards I stopped occasionally to
call, but it was not until we had been going nearly an hour, that
the tiger suddenly started calling again, away back in the hills,
whence we had just come.
It

I called

MOTIGHUR
Both the shikari and
astonishment of

were

tired

143

and hungry,

but, to the

my

companion, I grimly turned to go back.

The shikari now had to run to keep up with me. It was getting
late and we were up against the age-old problem of time and
space.

On

rounding the first spur we realized that the tiger was

calling about a mile and a half away from a hill to our right
front. We therefore quickly decided to go obliquely up a hill
from where we hoped to be able to answer the call. My shikari
was not a local man, and neither of us knew the jungle, but
our luck was in. After we had panted up the hill we found
ourselves at the beginning of a long narrow plateau covered in
grass. The plateau itself had very few trees, but there was dense
jungle on the slopes on either side, and a narrow pathway led
straight through the middle of the grass in the direction of the

who, judging by the volume of his roar was coming

us. We now answered each other call for call. The
shikari and I ran along the pathway towards the tiger, stopping
only from time to time to answer him when he roared. There
was no doubt at all now that we were both approaching each
other very fast. It was amazing how many chital and sambur
sprang up out of the grass and bolted for their lives.
When eventually we had got to within two hundred yards of
the far end of the plateau, we halted to take stock of our
surroundings, and also to regain our breath. While we were
doing this ,the tiger called about a furlong away. I answered
immediately. A moment or two later we were delighted to see
tiger,

towards

of a tiger, held straight up in the air, moving, like the

periscope of a submarine through a sea of yellow grass, towards
the dense jungle to our right. The body of the tiger was comthe

tail

hidden from view. The shikari and I now moved to our

tree, about fifteen yards from the
right,
into
the
which the tiger had disappeared
of
dense
edge
jungle,
about one hundred and fifty yards further away.
Between us and the edge of the plateau there was a small bare
patch, devoid even of grass, marking the upper end of a narrow
ravine, which a few yards further on entered the dense jungle,
and then descended abruptly towards the valley below. Standing behind the tree with the shikari crouching in the grass

pletely

and got behind a small

me I now leant my rifle against the tree-trunk, and

eagerly scanned the edge of the jungle through my field-glasses,

beside

CALL OF THE TIGER

144

hoping the
us.

tiger

would soon reappear coming that way towards

He had ceased calling, and as minute after minute went by,

my hopes sank lower and lower, until at last in sheer desperation

I decided to call again.

response, and

But even

this failed to

produce any

had almost given up hope when

my

shikari

whispered hoarsely that he could smell the tiger. The wind

certainly was blowing from the jungle towards us, but, for all
that, I could smell absolutely nothing at all, and was just

how ridiculous it was of the shikari to talk

when from the jungle about twenty yards to our

thinking to myself

such utter

rot,

right front out

ahead.

down

walked a

tiger straight

on

to the

open patch

had

my field-glasses in my hand. As I put them

to seize my rifle, the tiger saw me, and immediately
I still

crouched facing me. A head-on shot is always dangerous, but

with the setting sun behind me, lighting up the target, it was
irresistible. Aiming at the middle of the chest, I fired.
The
a
went
over
but
miraculous
backwards,
effort,
straight
by
tiger
succeeded in getting back into the fringe of the jungle, roaring
furiously, and tearing up everything within reach, but without
giving the chance of another shot. When this first outburst
had subsided, I reloaded and went forward a bit to the right,
hoping to be able to see the tiger again. Eventually I got a
The tiger
shot at something, but this turned out to be a paw
I
could
hear
once
more, but, although
immediately got going
it jumping about, for the life of me I could not see it. Fortu!

nately, in the end, the tiger rolled down the hill, and gave me
the chance I was waiting for to finish it off.
It turned out to be a tigress. This then accounted for the
reluctance she had shown about coming forward to meet us
when we were calling her earlier on. She evidently considered
to the boy-friend to go to her, and when that did not
must have concluded it was a tigress and not a
she
happen,
tiger calling. I am quite sure I should never have seen her if I
had not gone forward to meet her.
first bullet had hit her a couple of inches below her left
and
had carried away the back portion of her lower jaw,
eye,
without doing any further damage. This had rendered her
it

was up

My

semi-conscious.

consciousness

am

convinced she would have recovered

and been a

difficult

following up over till the morning.

that I had followed immediately.

problem if I had left the

It was indeed a blessing

MOTIGHUR

145

When

the tigress stepped into the open, the rays of the

sun
brilliantly lit up the orange and chestnut tints of her
setting

handsome

coat, showing her up to great advantage. It would

have been a grand opportunity to take a good picture with a
camera.
Leaving the tigress where she lay, the shikari and I hurried
homewards, and got back to the Forest Bungalow just before
dark. The rest of our party had arrived back from Koelpurra
in the car, and, having heard the three shots were now all agog
to hear the story. I left it to my companion to tell the tale,
which, I knew, would lose nothing in the telling
!

rained very heavily, and when I set out

just before dawn the sky was very overcast. The shikari and a
skinner accompanied me. We picked our way through the
jungle with a torch, and had not gone far from the bungalow
when a small chital fawn jumped up out of the grass by the
side of our pathway, and bounded away at full speed. We
reached the beginning of the plateau just as it was beginning to

During the night

get light,

it

in complete silence, when

a large black object about twenty yards
was a sambur hind I stopped to make sure,

and were moving ahead

I noticed

suddenly
ahead. Thinking

it

and was surprised

to see the object take three or four quick,

sharp steps, advancing towards me. Realizing then that it was

a big boar, bent on charging me, I hurriedly turned to the man
behind me for my rifle, but when I turned again the boar was
galloping away as fast as his legs would carry him. I think, in
the half light, he must have mistaken me for a tiger.
I was pleased to find the tigress lying where we had left her,
not that I had expected her to come to life and wander off
again, but I had once lost a panther by leaving him out in the

When I went to fetch him in the morning, I

found he had been half eaten by another panther
Skinning the tigress on a steep hillside was not an easy job,
and to add to our difficulties it started pouring again with rain,
soaking us all to the skin. However, the expert skinner soon
had the skin off, and before long we were on our way home
again, with the skin folded into a neat little bundle, now
cleverly balanced on the skinner's head.
On our way home, the little fawn again sprang out of the
same patch of grass, and bolted just as it had before dawn.
Young fawns are apparently well-disciplined. When left by

jungle overnight.

GALL OF THE TIGER

146

duty to remain hidden

their

mothers in a certain place,

there

they return. If disturbed by an enemy, they make a

dash for safety, but, when the coast is clear, return again

mad

it is

their

till

to exactly the

same

There is much

place.

wild animals of the jungle

to

be learnt from the

CHAPTER

XI

TALAMALAI
I N THE DAYS I am writing about, the main road going Southwards from Mysore through Nanjangud towards Satyamangalam and Coimbatore was not too good. At least, it was fairly
good as far as Chamrajnagar, but after that it was bad. At the
top of the ghat (pass), marking the end of the plateau and
overlooking the plains of Coimbatore, there was a small Rest

House by the side of the road, at a little place called Dimbhum.

was here that I found myself at the end of my first day's

It

journey from Bangalore. Heavy rain prevented me from going

any further that day, for from there to Talamalai there was
thirteen miles of unmetalled jungle road, which the rain had

made impassable for the time-being. My car was full, and very
overloaded with servants, kit, and stores, and, after thinking
things over, I decided to try and hire a bullock cart to relieve
the car of some of its burden for the last lap of the journey.
With the help of a fine old Mohamedan named Adam Khan, I
to do this. He was so delighted to meet someone who
could speak and understand his mother tongue, Urdu, that he
took great trouble to arrange the bullock cart for me. He was
the only one of his kind in the heart of this Tamil-speaking
country, and was apparently in charge of some fellings in that
part of the forest.
Very early next morning the bullock cart arrived, and, after
it had been loaded, I left for Talamalai, taking my bearer and
motor driver with me, with just the guns and enough provisions
for the day. The road was still very wet after the heavy rain,
and we skidded along through the treacherous mud, over the
narrow track, which, for the first mile, followed the top of the

was able

These cliffs
cliffs forming the upper ramparts of the plateau.
descended abruptly to the thickly wooded hillsides several
hundred feet below. The view of the plains beyond was
magnificent, but the narrow track was truly hair-raising in

was barely enough room for the car to get

and there was nothing at the side of the road to prevent

places, for there

along,

148

CALL OF THE TIGER

one from skidding over the edge to hurtle down the cliffs below.
Thereafter the road went up hill and down dale through very
dense forests, and we were getting along famously in spite of
having to plough our way through the heavy mud, until at
last we came to a small stream, where a herd of wild elephants
had s6 churned up the wet mud on both sides with their heavy
feet, that the car sank up to its axles, and the rear wheels spun
round hopelessly in the mire, without being able to grip solid
ground. So there we were, absolutely stuck, and unable to
move. My Punjabi motor driver, who had never been in a
dense jungle or seen wild elephants in his life, now imagined
that a whole herd of monstrous pachyderms would rush out
upon us, and trample us to death. He looked pale with fright,
and when I suggested he should cut some brushwood to put
under the wheels, he said in a whisper, "But what if the
elephants hear me?" It was indeed a sorry plight, and we
might have been there still if Adam Khan and about a dozen
men had not arrived on their way to do some fellings. With
their assistance, and after much pushing
managed to get the car out of the mire.

had had the

and shoving we
I

thanked

my

at last
stars I

the heavy kit on by bullock cart.

Adam Khan then put two men with their axes at my disposal
to accompany us on the next stage of our journey, in case we
should find ourselves in difficulties again. Six or seven miles
from Dimbhum we came to a small Forest Bungalow on the
sense to send

all

top of a hill, and from there, for the first time, one could see the
Talamalai plain. Here we were about half-way to our destination, and the road now descended steeply, winding its way
round many hair-pin bends, and passing through magnificent
forests of enormous trees. The scenery was wonderful. Beyond
the wide plain ahead, the Blue Mountains of the Nilgiris raised
their proud heads to meet the sky, and the hills and valleys we
were passing through were truly very beautiful.
Arriving at the foot of the hill, we now crossed a mile of open
cultivated lands to the village of Talamalai, where, after many
inquiries by my Tamil-speaking bearer, we were at last
directed to the house of Krishna, the local shikari.
Now,

Krishna is the name of a Hindu god, but, strangely enough,

Krishna shikari was a Mohamedan. Although he looked and
dressed like all the Hindus around him, he, unlike the rest,
spoke remarkably good Urdu, and so it was that I met a man

TALAMALAI

149

whose name will live in my memory for ever. Without more

ado he got into my car, and after we had called at the Range
Quarters, and met the Forest Ranger, we sped on about
another mile to the
situated

by

little Forest Bungalow, conveniently

the side of the road. It was not much of a place

having no bed, it had most of the other

a
table and chairs, and a zinc bath-tub,
necessities, including
besides which it had servants' quarters and a kitchen. Krishna
very soon arranged men to fetch water and firewood, and in
less than half an hour the kitchen chimney could be seen
smoking quite merrily, while my bearer busied himself cooking
something good for master to eat.
I forgot to mention that this was Christmas week, and I was
now on five days leave. The primary purpose of the trip was a
tiger, while the secondary object was a thoroughly good rest and

really, but, except for

change from work and civilization. After having seen the

jungles we passed through that morning, all seemed to promise
well.

Krishna

me

now departed to collect as many animals as he could

buy as baits, and I wandered into the jungle across

the road, with no object other than to get a better idea of my
immediate surroundings, and also to while away the time until
for

to

Krishna's return. Less than a furlong from the bungalow I

came across a young sambur stag, browsing peacefully on the
luscious green leaves of a stunted tree. He was out late, for it
was now nearly nine o'clock, and he should have been in bed

long ago However, it was a dull cloudy morning, and he had

evidently forgotten all about the time. Just to see how close I
could get to him without being discovered, I decided to stalk
him, but, by the time I had gone round by a fire line to come
up behind him, he had disappeared, and very cleverly turned
!

the tables on me. While I was looking for him where I had last
seen him, he was standing stock still and watching me from a
flank. When I was only a few yards away, he belled so suddenly,
that I nearly jumped out of my skin, and, in a flash, he was

gone!

When

Krishna returned with the baits and their owners, I

not help having a jolly good laugh. Such a motley
could
really
collection of men and animals indeed presented a truly
ludicrous spectacle. I think the people of Talamalai must have
had a sense of humour too, for when I laughed, they all

150

GALL OF THE TIGER

laughed with me, so that made a pretty good beginning anyway, and the bargaining which took place in the next few
minutes was conducted in a spirit of jovial cordiality. I must
say these jungle folk were much more honest and amenable to
reason than many I had met in other parts of India. The prices
they asked were fairly reasonable, and they agreed to receiving
only part-payment, if their animals were returned alive and
intact at the end of my stay, which was a thing others rarely did
elsewhere. In a few minutes I found myself in possession of all
the baits I needed, having bought or hired all except those
which were really beyond a joke.
That evening Krishna and I went out more or less Southwards into the more open jungles away from where the baits
were being tied. I say "the more open jungles", but to all intents
and purposes they were quite dense enough, though perhaps
the trees were not quite so large as those we had seen in the
denser forests in the morning. The Lentana bushes, and other
dense scrub made it difficult to see more than a few yards.
After wandering about for an hour or more without seeing
anything, we had just turned homewards, when a herdsman
ran up to us, breathless, and announced that a tiger had just
killed one of his bullocks, about half a mile away. We raced
back with him to the spot, which happened to be on a grassy
spur, and which we had visited only a few minutes earlier on.
Very quietly we advanced through the grass hoping to get a
shot at the tiger feeding on his kill, but, instead of this, we found
the old bullock, standing up, about fifty yards down the steep
We then went down to look
hillside on the far side of the spur
at him and found that his throat had been torn open, and that
he had rolled or been dragged down the hill. Furthermore, he
had been seized by the muzzle, and his nostrils had also been
badly torn. As a result of this, blood was oozing from his
nostrils and throat, and the poor beast's body was heaving and
lurching in a desperate struggle to breathe. In addition, the
breathing was making a wheezing gurgling sound which could
be heard several yards away. We tried to get him to move, but
he was too done for to do so. In the circumstances there was
nothing we could have done to help the poor animal. It would
have been a mercy to have shot him, but I dared not do so for
!

fear of offending the religious susceptibilities of the Hindu

population. I therefore hid myself in the grass, and told Krishna

TALAMALAI

15!

and the herdsman to go away talking. The sun was setting, and
I hoped the assailant would reappear before darkness set in.
Nothing, however, came, and I sat there till it became too
dark to be able to see my sights. Then, getting up very quietly,
I crept back to join the others who were waiting for me on a
forest line about a furlong away.
Both Krishna and I were of the opinion that it was a panther
and not a tiger, though the herdsman still swore that it was a
It was no use arguing
tiger that had attacked the bullock.
about it, but the fang-marks in the throat distinctly said
"panther", and I have never known a tiger seize his victim by
the muzzle, though I have quite often known a panther do so.
The bullock was a fine big animal, and had evidently succeeded
in driving off his attacker, but to what purpose? When we
returned very early in the morning, he was gone.
Krishna and I then followed up the drag, and found that the
bullock had been thrown down a cliff, and, after falling about a
hundred feet, had rolled another forty or fifty, and stuck in

some bushes

in a ravine.

We had

the greatest difficulty letting

down this precipice, for there was no other way

round. The hindquarters of the bullock had been eaten, and
there was no doubt at all now that it was a panther, for his
tracks were clearly visible in some damp earth near the kill.
ourselves

tree for a machan, and I was just pointa

a
for
hideout on the side of the ravine, when
out
ing
position
Krishna suddenly had a most unfortunate brain-wave. The
kill, he said, was outside the boundary limits of my shooting
permit! Well, that was that, and, as there was no way of
dragging the carcass into our own territory, we had to abandon
the idea of sitting up. It was indeed unfortunate that Krishna
had not had his brain-wave a bit earlier, and I told him so in
no uncertain language.
The nearest Post Office was at Talavadi twelve miles away,
and, that morning, I had sent a special runner to post some
letters, and also collect my Christmas mail. In the afternoon,
he arrived back with my post, looking none the worse for

There was no suitable

having covered twenty-four miles on foot, and he also brought

the news that on his return journey he had heard people
shouting, and had discovered that a panther had killed a
bullock near a small village, about four miles away. He said
he had arranged with the villagers not to remove the carcass.

GALL OP THE TIGER

152

Unfortunately for me, Krishna had gone off to supervise the

tying out of the baits, and I was obliged to go without him.
Taking my Punjabi driver, the post-runner, and a couple of
men with me in the car, I succeeded in reaching a spot about
half a mile from the kill. It was then that my difficulties really
began, for neither my driver nor I could speak the local
language, and my coolies could not understand a word I said.

However, the post-runner led us

partly eaten, close to a narrow

to the

kill,

which was lying

forest line, and after

in getting the coolies to tie

much

succeeded
up a
more
or
less
as
I
all
was
wanted
it.
when
machan,
Then,
I
climbed
into
and
the
to
take
ordered
driver
ready,
my perch,
the men away, but to return for me at about eight o'clock.
It was now about four o'clock, and it was a lovely warm
afternoon. A grey jungle-cock had just uttered a piercingly
shrill squawk, but, not understanding his language, I lay back
on the machan, and gazed up at a few white clouds floating
over very high up in the sky. The panther had had a very good
feed, and I did not expect him to return till late in the evening.
Imagine my surprise, when I turned my head, and saw a huge
He had just
panther, standing broadside on by the kill.
and
was
his
one
hind
arrived,
leg of which was
surveying
prey,
broken at the hock, and was sticking up in the air. The
panther sniffed this, and licked the blood off the protruding
bone. And then, as though apprehending danger, he stood
stock still, and looked sideways towards the foot of my tree. I
lay quite still, hoping he would start feeding, and give me the
chance to sit up, and lay hold of the rifle lying by my side. The
gesticulation, I

slightest

movement now would have

attracted his attention.

Instead of starting to feed, however, he came straight over to

the foot of my tree, presumably to look down the forest line, and
make sure there was nobody about. He must have been there
a couple of minutes, and, although I could not see him, I dared
not stir for fear of frightening him away. Then, having moved
round out of sight, he appeared again beyond the kill, where he
sitting upright like a dog.
I
raised
myself, and caught hold
lessly
was in. Something prompted him to

sat

down,

Very slowly and

of my

rifle,

noise-

but his luck

move on, and, before I

could put the rifle to my shoulder, he had disappeared into the
very heavy undergrowth beyond.
The conclusion I came to was that he had evidently heard us

TALAMALAI

153

putting up the machan, and had come along a few minutes

after the departure of the men, just to see if they had interfered
with the kill. Having satisfied himself that they had not, he

make sure the men had really

not
and
to the jungle without
returned
gone.
hungry,
a
to
me
curse
having feed, leaving
myself for having let such a
wonderful chance slip right through my fingers. My only hope
now was that he would return again at dusk, and this time I
was determined to be ready for him, if he came. He was a
remarkably big, heavily-built panther, and looked very fine
standing there in the bright sunlight only ten or twelve yards
away. The sight would have delighted the heart of any
big-game photographer, provided, of course, that he had
not been so unready with his camera, as I had been with my

moved over

to the forest line to

He was

rifle.

Dusk came, but no panther, and, although I sat on for a

couple of hours after dark, nothing at all came to the kill.
Then, to my horror, I saw the bright headlights of my car
coming down the narrow forest line towards me. That arrant
coward of a driver had funked walking down the line with the
coolies in the dark, and had therefore driven the car into a
veritable cul-de-sac, to come and fetch me. To say that I was
angry, would be putting it very mildly. Not only did this
action spoil the chances that still existed of getting the panther
the next day, but I also realized that it would be the very devil
backing the car a furlong down the narrow line in the dark.
Trust a coward to make a hash of things, just to save his own
I am afraid that driver was a degenerate,
precious skin!
his
own gallant race. Taking everything into
of
unworthy
consideration, it had been rather an unfortunate day.
The men who went out early next morning to look at the kill,
came back and reported that men from the neighbouring
village had skinned the bullock and removed the meat. All

was the head, the skin, and the legs. Whether

had returned during the night to the kill, they did

that remained

the panther

not know.

was more than a

little astonished to find that the Hindus, in

of the world, were prepared to eat a cow killed by a
tiger or panther. According to Krishna, they did not slaughter
cows, but had no objection to eating one killed for them in this
way. Very few Hindu shikaris in Northern or Central India

this part

154

CALL OF THE TIGER

would deign even to touch a dead cow, let alone eat one, after
it had been killed by a tiger or panther.
As Krishna had reported no casualties amongst the baits,
and as there was just the possibility that the panther had fed on
the kill and retired to the jungle before the villagers had
removed it, I set out that afternoon, with the forlorn hope that
the panther might once again return to have a look at the

kill.

We stuffed the old bullock's hide with branches and leaves, and
made him look as much like the original kill as possible, hoping
way to deceive the panther, but, in spite of this, and, in
of
the fact that I sat bolt upright in the machan awaiting
spite

in this

another opportunity such as the one I had missed, no such

opportunity came again.
I had ordered Krishna to go and buy a goat from the
neighbouring village, and tie it on the forest line near my tree

sundown. He arrived rather late when it was getting dusk,

said he had been delayed, because the village goats had
returned late from their grazing grounds. He also warned me
that he had heard a noise in the jungle coming down the line
with the goat, and he suspected a panther was following him.
He said he had pulled the goat's ears a couple of times, to make
it bleat and lead the panther on
Having tied the goat, Krishna had hardly been gone two
minutes, when there was a sudden rush, and I saw the goat
bowled over by a panther. I was absolutely ready for him, and
shot him dead, but I am sorry to say it was not the large male
I had seen the day before. Nevertheless, it was a good big
panther, and a few minutes later we were on our way home
with the prize tied on to the luggage-grid at the back of the car.
at

and

Incidentally, a luggage-carrier is always a good thing. It may

not be beautiful, but it is very useful on occasions such as these.
It must be remembered, however, that the carrier should be
well covered with grass and leaves to prevent the possibility of
hair being rubbed off the skin of the trophy. I once put a tiger
inside my car, and it took some weeks to remove all traces of
blood and smell. Besides nothing bites harder into the skin
than a tiger tick! He buries his head under the skin, and
causes a most painful inflammation, which takes some days to
subside. Ticks start leaving dead tigers and panthers as soon

beware
Next morning Krishna reported that one of the

as they begin getting cold, so

baits

had

TALAMALAI

155

been killed by a panther, about half a mile from the place

where the bullock had been killed on the day of my arrival.
The bait had been tied at the junction of a forest line with what
was known locally as the Sultan Road, a relic of the historic
days of the greatly feared Tippu Sultan. Between this junction
and the village of Talamalai about a mile of this road was
bounded on both sides by gigantic fig trees, the fruit of which
fell, at this time of year, in large quantities, on to the road
below, and was a source of great attraction to the sloth bears,
who came down at night from the hills specially to eat it. In the
opposite direction, this old thoroughfare was bounded by
jungle on the one side, and by extensive cultivation on the

and was, in consequence, quite often used by wild

elephants coming down to raid the rice and other crops in the
other,

Patta-lands (Cultivated areas) of the Talamalai Plain.

In
was
a
there
was
at
that
who
time
very large tusker,
particular,
terrorizing the whole countryside. He raided the patta-lands
regularly at night, and chased men whenever he met them in
the forest by day, but, as he had not actually killed anyone, he
had not been proscribed as a rogue. He was therefore immune,

within Forest limits, from being shot, except in self-defence.

Krishna begged me to sit up one night, and shoot him in the
fields, for there he was "out of bounds", and could be shot by
anyone, but I did not like the idea of shooting an elephant that
had not been proscribed.
To return to the kill. As there was fear of interference by
elephants, Krishna had put up my machan at least twenty feet
from the ground, but he had chosen a very slender and delicate
looking tree, that could, in my opinion, have been knocked
over by an angry elephant The kill was lying at the edge of the
!

jungle, by the side of the Sultan Road, for the panther

not been able to break the thick rope with which the bait

been

tied.

thick ropes.

It

was the custom

had
had

in this part of the world to use

so thick, that if a tiger or

The undergrowth was

panther succeeded in removing a kill, it was sometimes impossible to follow it up. Funnily enough, this did not seem to
raise the suspicions of the local tigers and panthers, and, according to Krishna, they nearly always returned to a kill. This

practice would not have

Provinces.
I

had no end of a

worked in the Central or United

struggle trying to climb into

my

high

CALL OF THE TIGER

156

when eventually I succeeded in getting up there, I

asked Krishna to cut down a small sapling, which was obscuring
the view. He pointed out that it was a Government tree, and he
could not take the responsibility for destroying Government
property, as, after my departure, he might be had up for doing

perch, but

so.

Apart from that, however, all was well.

and having settled myself in

three o'clock,
to

It

was now about

I ordered the

men

go away.

Shortly after their departure, a musician in one of the neighbouring fields, decided to do a bit of "tom-toming", and,
having started beating his drum, continued to do so for half an
hour without stopping. It was really quite exasperating, for no
panther could have faced such music, and, at one time when
he got worked up, it almost felt as though he was deliberately
trying to drive all wild animals out of Southern India. It was
indeed a relief when he eventually stopped.
Shortly afterwards, three peahens came out of the jungle on
to the road near the kill. Their long necks were stretched out
to the fullest extent possible, and their hackles were up. They
were looking round nervously behind them, and it was obvious
they had been disturbed by some dreaded enemy. A few seconds
later I saw the head and shoulders of a panther appear in the
undergrowth behind, and, after a slight pause, a fine big
panther came out to the edge of the forest and sat down,
screened by the jolly old sapling However, a few seconds later,
he got up and moved forward a few paces, to look down the
Sultan Road, just to make sure there was no one approaching.
It was then that I took my shot, and, as he fell over and lay
!

I hurriedly fired again, and cut the

So that was that But a very strange thing
happened to me. While the panther lay there kicking and
dying, a very clear vision of that first tormented bullock flashed
across my eyes. Surely, this was the murderer
Krishna and party soon arrived, and we all had a good
laugh about the sapling. I told him about the drummer, and
he then confessed, that, after leaving me, he had run off back
to the village to have some tea, and was horrified when he
heard the drum. The drummer had then been silenced by him.
Krishna now suggested that I should stay on in the machan,
and sit up over the kill for a few hours that night. He seemed
to think some other panther or even a tiger would come along

kicking

on the ground,

sapling in two

TALAMALAI

157

would be better to take the

I,
back
to
the
panther
bungalow first, and return later to sit up.
car
was
a quarter of a mile up the Sultan Road,
about
My
only
tied
the
and, having
panther on at the back, we took it first to
the village of Talamalai, where it was admired by all, and then
drove on to the Forest Bungalow.
It was now about five o'clock, and I was peacefully drinking
a cup of tea, when a man ran in to say a panther had killed a
to the

kill.

however, decided

it

goat near the village of Mudiyanur, less than a mile away. We

hurried to the spot, only to find that in the meantime the
panther, or possibly somebody else, had removed the kill. The
tracks were of a very large panther, and there was blood to

show where the goat had been killed. Now, however, there was
no hope of discovering where it had gone. I therefore selected
a climbable tree, and hid myself in the upper branches, while a
man was sent to the village to fetch another goat. This, however, took so long, that by the time it arrived it was getting
dark, and, although the goat bleated hysterically, it failed to
attract the panther. Thus ended another little incident, but,

had had enough for one day, I did not return to sit up over
on the Sultan Road. I told Krishna I would sit up there
the following evening, if there were no further kills elsewhere,
and ordered him to cover up the kill first thing in the morning,
to save it from being devoured by vultures.
The next morning was spent skinning the second panther,
and, as none of the baits had been touched, it seemed we were
in for a dull day. In the evening, however, while Krishna was
on his way to tie out the baits, he suddenly saw a tiger strolling

as I

the

kill

down the jungle road ahead of him. He ran back to fetch me,
in the hopes that we might see it again, but I am afraid the
tiger had got too well ahead by the time we got back to the
spot, and, although we followed in his tracks for nearly a mile,
we never saw him. Baits were rushed forward to various
vantage points, in the hopes that the tiger would find them
during the night.
Later that evening I went and sat up over the kill on the
Sultan Road. The tiger had caused an unexpected diversion,
and as Krishna had great hopes it would kill somewhere that
night,

and wanted me

accompany him in the morning, it was

up only till about eleven o'clock that
The moon was full, and I was able to see down a long

decided that I should

night.

to

sit

CALL OF THE TIGER

158

stretch of the Sultan

Road, which was gleaming white in the

beautiful moonlight. It mattered not in the slightest whether or

not anything came to the kill. It would have been enough to
sit there alone in those wonderful
surroundings on a night such
as this.

The hours went by without my

seeing a thing, until

thought I saw a large shadow moving some distance

down the road. Gradually it became larger and larger, and
presently I realized that a solitary elephant was coming down
the road towards me. I now slipped a couple of "solid" into
my heavy cordite rifle, just in case of any trouble, for I had very
little faith in the slender tree Krishna had selected for my
machan. Now the elephant was in the moonlight, and his white
tusks gleamed, as he swayed on his way along the ancient
highway. He looked very big, and I could not help thinking at
the time that even Tippu would have been delighted to see
such a magnificent old tusker on the Sultan Road. He looked,
and was a King, like Tippu himself, before whom all humans
fled in terror at the very mention of his approach. So this was
the "Terror of Talamalai !" Indeed, I did not wonder people
were frightened of this mighty king. Even though I was high up
in a machan and out of his reach, I felt my fingers tighten round
my heavy rifle, as he drew level with my position, and stopped
suddenly, as if arrested by some unusual sight. The smell of the
kill had reached his sensitive nostrils, and he was now holding
his trunk out before him to sniff the tainted air. Very slowly
he advanced to investigate, and whether it was the smell of the
kill or of the panther's blood that enraged him I cannot say,
but suddenly he rushed forward towards the kill, making
sounds such as I cannot describe. He was now in the shadow
of the trees, and I could not see exactly what he was doing, but
he seemed to be kicking mud forwards with his forefeet over
the kill, and was still giving vent to his disapproval by making
terrifying noises. I was glad when he moved on again, but
prayed that he would not go on to find and wreck my car half
a mile further down the road towards Talamalai, or meet and
play skittles with Krishna and his party, who were due to come

suddenly

along shortly to fetch

me down from my tree.

Very early before dawn next morning, Krishna and I set out
together to see if the tiger had killed any of our baits. These

had been put out

very large area.

at intervals along forest lines and roads over a

were going to look at the most likely

We

TALAMALAI

159

places, while men were sent to look at the others. Krishna

seemed very full of hope when we started, but as time went on,
and we found bait after bait untouched, we realized that the
tiger had eluded us. Although this was very disappointing, the
morning, nevertheless, proved to be a most interesting one in
many little ways. When we got to the second bait, Krishna
showed me the tree from which a young officer had shot the
biggest tiger ever shot near Talamalai. The bait had been tied
with a stout rope in exactly the same place, and the huge tiger

had returned in daylight to the kill. The young officer had

shot the tiger, and had shown his gratitude to the Tiger god,
by having a large wooden tiger made for the temple of the
Tiger deity. I was much intrigued, and asked if I could see it.
"Yes," said Krishna. "We can see it on our way home."
Then, while cutting across some cultivated land, to avoid
going all the way round by the forest line, we were nearing a
high impenetrable hedge, when I noticed blood on the little
pathway we were following. Krishna then pointed out three
sharply pointed wooden stakes, about four feet long, bent
forwards to face a gap in the hedge, so placed that any animal
jumping through the gap would be impaled. The red bloodstained stake, and some bits of clotted hair proclaimed that
some unfortunate chital had jumped to its doom through the
gap an hour or two before our arrival. Further on, when we
reached a field adjoining the Reserved Forest, Krishna pointed
out a trench, running along the side of another impenetrable
hedge. The trench was shallow at one end, and gradually grew
deeper and deeper, until it terminated in a dead end about ten
feet deep. The steep sides were undercut, and Krishna then
explained, that in this way a dozen or more wild pigs could be
destroyed in one go. When the pigs entered the field, by yelling
or firing a shot one man could drive them towards the trench,
and the pigs, entering the shallow end of the trench, would run
down to the deep end and find themselves entrapped. The
man would then throw in the dry brushwood and grass already
placed in readiness near the shallow end, and set it on fire, thus
ensuring that the pigs could not escape. Finally with the aid of
men armed with spears, the pigs could be exterminated. After
seeing these two simple but diabolical devices, I came to the
conclusion that the inhabitants of these parts did not really
need firearms for the protection of their crops
!

GALL OF THE TIGER

l6o

On the way home we called at the temple.

temple
effigy

itself,

of a

but in a shed

demon

tiger,

all to itself

There, not in the

was the large wooden

painted bright yellow, with long black

and a very red mouth and tongue. It was mounted on a

wooden platform, and had its own wooden chariot, in which
Krishna said it was taken out in procession on the appropriate
day, I exclaimed at its beauty, and Krishna was delighted to
see that I admired it. I asked who had made it, and was given
the full history, including the name of the carpenter and the
bazaar from where the paint had been purchased, but I cannot
remember these details now. With great pride Krishna also
showed me the letter this officer had given him as a testimonial,
but I cannot remember the officer's name. Anyway, if he has
survived World War II, and should chance to read this story,
stripes,

he will perhaps be glad to know that his present to the temple

was greatly appreciated, and probably will still be appreciated
by many generations to come. The effigy of the tiger is one of
Talamalai's most treasured possessions.
Krishna had been gored by a wounded bull bison, and the
wound in his thigh, where the horn had penetrated, was large
enough to put a fist in. He said he had not been able to walk
for a very long time afterwards, and I can well believe it. The
wound had thoroughly healed, and he had the full use of his
legs when I knew him, but I must say he had a terrible scar.
He could tell a good story, but he never liked saying too much
about this incident. I rather gathered he had been poaching in
the Reserved Forest, and mistaking the half-hidden body of the
bison for a sambur, had fired at it with his muzzle-loader, with
disastrous results. He also told another story, which I think will
probably interest others as much as it did me, so I will tell it in
his words
"I had gone into the hills early one morning, together with
another man, to try and shoot a sambur. While we were sitting
on a spur watching the opposite hillside, in the hopes that we
should catch sight of a sambur grazing somewhere, a big bull
:

bison appeared, grazing peacefully, and moving slowly across

a grassy clearing. He did not see us, because we were hidden in

and were sitting absolutely still. Presently, to our

saw a very large tiger come out of the jungle behind
The tiger began to stalk the bison, who was quite
unconscious of his presence. We were very frightened, and
the grass,

horror, we
the bison.

TALAMALAI

l6l

wanted

to run away, but our blood was turned to water, and we

could not run even though we wanted to do so. Suddenly the
bison must have smelt the tiger, for he gave a very loud snort,
and the tiger immediately ran back into the jungle. Then the
fun began. The tiger showed his face from behind the trunk of a
tree, and the bison put his head down and charged, hitting the
tree such a mighty smack, that he himself was thrown over
backwards, and the tiger ran quickly away to one side. Again
the tiger showed himself from behind another tree, and again
the stupid bison charged and hurt himself without doing any
damage to the tiger. This went on for a very long time, and
sometimes when the bison refused to charge, the tiger used to
come out into the open to annoy him, so that he would charge
again. It was a terrible tragedy, for the bison had no sense.
After about four or five hours he was completely exhausted, and
blood was flowing from his forehead. His flanks were heaving,
and he was too tired even to turn round. Then the tiger attacked
him from behind, and tore open the veins of his hind legs with
his teeth and claws.
The great bull sank down backwards,
making a bellowing sound."
"And did you shoot the tiger?" I asked. "No," said
Krishna, "we had gone only to shoot a sambur, and we
hardly dared breathe now that we saw the mighty bison

had been over-powered by the tiger. We were sore afraid

that the tiger might see us and kill us too. We crept away
quietly, and then ran as fast as we could to get out of the
jungle."
I

am

afraid I never got a tiger

The

on that

trip.

Time was

too

with panthers, but tigers were few

and far between. With more time at my disposal, things would
have been different. I made no attempt to go after bison
either, although those jungles were known to hold one or two
short.

place was

stiff

exceptionally good heads.

Owing to the fact that the local inhabitants often stole

away
it seemed to me that
their
for
own
kills
and
use,
tiger
panther
both tigers and panthers in those parts were in the habit of
returning constantly to their kills, even in daylight, just to see
that they had not been taken away. Furthermore, as they did
not seem to mind not being able to remove the kills which were
secured by unbreakable ropes, it would have been possible to
take photographs under ideal conditions. Certainly, it would

GALL OF THE TIGER

l62

have been extremely easy

came out

in front of

to

photograph the two panthers that

me

in the bright sunlight.

I left Talamalai with a feeling that I had visited a very
interesting part of the world, and that I should very much like to

go there again. I wrote the Forest Officer, asking him to let me

know if ever he decided to proscribe that elephant as a rogue,
but up to the time of my leaving, a few months later, to take
part in a small war on the North West Frontier, I heard nothing
from him, and I was never able to visit the place again.
Nine years later, when I was given a month's leave to go to the
Nilgiris, I wrote the Forest Officer to ask if I could shoot at
Talamalai again. He very kindly said I could, and the trip was
duly arranged.

bought a silver-plated axe,

fitted

with a

polished bamboo handle for my friend Krishna, and wrote

ahead telling him that I hoped to see him again very shortly.
The letter was eventually returned to me through the dead
letter office,

and

had a short note from the Forest Ranger

to

say that my shikari Krishna had been killed by a wild elephant.

And so I did not go to Talamalai again.

PART

III

CHAPTER

XII

THE GREAT INDIAN WILD BUFFALO

NOT

MANY SPORTSMEN

have seen this magnihave had the privilege of hunting

him. During the last half century his numbers have dwindled
so considerably that only the strictest conservation has saved
the species from extinction. Permission to shoot a buffalo was
granted only to important personages, and was limited to only
a few other sportsmen in each year. It is a great pity that even
more could not have been done to save this wonderful wild
animal. All sportsmen who have known him are agreed that he is
one of the gamest and most dangerous of big game animals,
and he certainly is a very fine trophy, being the possessor of the
largest horns of any of the genus "Bos" anywhere in the world.
When Kipling wrote his Jungle Book and said: "His spots are
the joy of the leopard, his horns are the buffalo's pride" he could
hardly have made a truer statement. Imagine a huge black
ficent animal,

and fewer

alive to-day

still

animal, standing six feet six inches at the shoulder, and carrying massive scimitar shaped horns that sweep outwards and
backwards, and have reached a record of 167 inches, i.e. just
one inch under fourteen feet from tip to tip along the curve
across the forehead. That is the measurement of a head shot
just over two years ago. In an old book in my possession I see
recorded a single horn measuring 78^ inches in the British
Museum. Other heads recorded measured 13 ft. 8 ins. and
13 ft. 4 ins., each with a girth of 20 ins., and one massive head
measuring 12 ft. 9 ins. had a girth of 34 ins.
Alas, that these great horns should have contributed so much
towards the buffalo's own undoing When two big bulls meet
and decide to have it out, either to gain mastership of a herd or
!

to assert their rights in what each considers his own domain,

they often fight to the death. The ghastly wounds inflicted by
these enormous horns often result in the death of both victor

and vanquished, and

far too many fine bulls have perished in

way. Alas also that wild buffaloes, unlike their cousin the
Indian bison, cannot resist the temptation of raiding cultivathis

165

CALL OF THE TIGER

l66

tion, and many pay the extreme penalty for this unfortunate
weakness. Exasperated by the extensive damage caused, the
inhabitants resort to using poisoned arrows. And, finally, there
is yet another cause for their downfall.
They leave their own
preserves to visit the fields, and, in doing so, pass through the
grass lands used as pasture by the village cattle, picking up
infection, which, in the form of Rinderpast, wipes out in one
fell swoop all that it has taken years and
years of careful
preservation to build up. These then are the factors which
account for the missing buffaloes of to-day.
People who have visited India and seen the domesticated
buffaloes wallowing in pools of water by the roadside are quite
naturally inclined to think of all buffaloes as "Water buffaloes".
If it ended there it might be forgiven, but one subaltern of a
famous British Regiment, (or so the story goes !), went out one
morning, and seeing these animals for the first time in his life,
shot five of them before breakfast, believing them to be the
genuine thing. He even remarked at breakfast that he did not
see why his elders and betters made such a fuss about the
difficulties and dangers of buffalo shooting, when he himself

had found

it

so simple to

do what he had done that morning

him a

tidy penny in compensation to the owners, but,

was blessed with this world's goods. That was
he
fortunately,
It cost

some years ago; but recently I met a Maharajah, or rather, the

son of a Maharajah, who held his sides while telling me that
tourists had shot three tame buffaloes that had
been deliberately tethered to trees by the roadside, to be shot
from a Jeep by spotlight when the tourists went shooting by
night. Some domesticated buffaloes do have fairly good horns.
Let us hope that these will serve to deceive their friends at home
Some writers have described the wild buffalo as a glorified
specimen of the tame one. This is only true of the resemblance
to the tame ones of the same part of the country, where the
domesticated buffaloes, though much smaller than the wild, do
generally have the same shaped horns, far bigger than those of
the tame buffaloes in Northern India and elsewhere. One thing,
however, seems to be inherent in them all, and that is a superb
courage. Domesticated bulls will fight to the death, and fights

some American

for high stakes are often arranged by their owners. Also a tame
herd will ring in and kill a wounded tiger.
domesticated

herd-bull will unhesitatingly

come forward

against all odds for

THE GREAT INDIAN WILD BUFFALO

167

the protection of his harem. Sometimes a wild bull comes out

of the forest to take over a domesticated herd grazing in the
jungle. The herd-bull comes out immediately to meet him in
mortal combat. He is only about half the size of his opponent,
but that does not deter him. They meet in a head-on clash,
and the poor gallant herd-bull is thrown to the ground in the
onslaught. Then it is not a fight, it is sheer stark murder.
The enormous neck muscles, rising in a great bulge in front of
his withers, come into play, and with a sweep of his sharpfirst

pointed scimitar shaped horns the wild bull delivers a coup de

grdce that practically tears his opponent in two. The herdsmen
in charge flee in abject terror or climb the nearest trees, leaving

the conquering hero to do his will. The poor dead herd-bull is

soon forgotten. Once again it is the old story of the fickle and
the brave
The ladies of the harem are delighted with their
!

new

lord.

When

at long last, after many years of waiting for an

opportunity to visit Buffalo land I received permission to shoot
I started on the journey without any mixed
me two and a half days travelling southwards
took
feelings.
in a train to reach railhead, and three more days to make
arrangements for the onward journey, but there was no happier
man in the world than when I found myself in a large motor
truck, stacked sky-high with the usual impedimenta, surmounted by my servants and other hangers-on. Hangers-on
in this case was the right expression, for, after spending the

a wild buffalo,
It

major portion of the day rumbling along about two hundred

miles of metalled roadway, we turned down a track leading
through the jungle, and hanging on became indeed most
The truck lurched and groaned horribly, while
necessary.
over-hanging branches and bamboos all but made a clean
sweep of the gentlemen perched atop. There were about fifty
miles of this to reach our destination, but darkness overtook us
when there were still some twenty miles to go. That does not
sound like much of a problem, but it did not turn out to be that
way. With a last despairing gasp the red-hot engine refused to
pull us out of the sandy ravine into which we had floundered

and

that was that for that day anyway

The night was intensely cold, so cold that all of us hugged the
camp fire. We eventually slept under and around the truck,

and awoke next morning

to

a misty dawn, with the grass soak-

GALL OF THE TIGER

68

ing wet and the trees dripping from a heavy dew. The old
truck had by now recovered from her heat-exhaustion, and,
although it took a supreme effort to re-start the engine, we
sailed out of the ravine with renewed vigour, and once again
went a-lurching on our way. We were passing through a
magnificent forest of big trees, standing in high grass and
tangled jungle. Occasionally a deer stepped into the road in
front of us, and after taking a look at the truck, darted into the
jungle again. We ourselves were all muffled up to our ears
trying to ward off the chilly morning air, when, to our amazement, some naked human figures appeared in the road ahead of
us, and, believe it or not, four young women were holding a
long bamboo across the road to bar our way. Except for a few
inches of cloth around the middle they were completely in the
buff! They smiled nervously and demanded toll eight annas
a monopoly enjoyed by the wild, wild women of that happy
land. I must say I was astonished, and so apparently was my
cook, a citizen of Delhi, who toppled off the truck, so keen was
he to have a look The toll was paid, and the damsels sped into
the jungle in much the same way as the deer had done before
!

them.

News

of our intended

visit

had preceded

us,

and

as

we

approached the little hamlet that was to be our headquarters for

the trip, more damsels, colours ranging from light copper to
dark brown, clad as before, rushed into the road to bar our way.
They looked frightened, but smiled amiably, and again we
paid the customary toll. The aborigines, for that was what they
were, had prepared a large bamboo archway to welcome us,
and as we passed through it I noticed that it was festooned
with jungle leaves and flowers. A little further down the road
we found the camp which had been prepared for us grass huts
with timber uprights and rafters, comprising a dining-room,
two bedrooms, two dressing rooms and four bathrooms, and
The villagers had
also a kitchen and servants' quarters.
collected in large numbers to greet us. They spoke the language
of the Maria Gonds, which was Greek to me, but, fortunately,
the village headman was capable of acting as interpreter.
As soon as the truck had been unloaded, I ifhpacked the
gramophone which invariably formed part of my camp
equipment, and set about making friends with my guests, I
tried a few Hindustani Comics on them, and the enthusiasm

THE GREAT INDIAN WILD BUFFALO

169

and appreciation these caused were astounding. It became

end to persuade the guests to go home, and
when they did go it was only to snatch a mouthful of food and
return for more "Machine" as they called it.
To wander about aimlessly through miles and miles of
difficult in the

jungle, looking for buffalo, leads one just nowhere.

that the first thing to do was to locate my quarry,

I realized

and that it
employ scouts to

would save me endless time and trouble to

do this part of the business for me. It did not take long to enlist
the local talent, and having arranged for scouts to go out in all
directions, I decided to spend a few happy hours, beating the
neighbouring jungles for a stag. All aborigines love meat, and

no sooner did I make the suggestion, than about a hundred

men, all armed with bows, arrows and spears, appeared as from
nowhere, so off we all went together.
The headman of the village was a particularly enterprising
fellow, anxious both to please and display his authority. With
a sweep of his

and then

led

arm he

signalled the beaters to enter the jungle,

me to a selected spot,

where, according to him, the

animals always came out in a beat. Having stationed me there,
he put out "Stops" on either flank to turn in the game, and
himself took up a position about thirty yards to my left. He
assured

me

there were no tigers in this jungle, but, somehow,

more than somewhat tigerish to me. It was

and
the grass out in front was more than waist
pretty dense,
bones
told me it would be wise to place myself
My
high.
behind a tree, and I signalled the headman to climb his tree
too, but he preferred to stay where he was on the ground. But
now the beat had started, and nearly a hundred men were
the jungle looked

making the jungle echo to their screams.

living creature came my way. The
beaters were less than fifty yards away, when there were two
loud coughs, followed by a resounding roar, and I saw flashes
of orange and black streaking through the grass towards the
headman. He was so taken by surprise, and so terror-stricken,
yelling their lungs out,

On

they came but no

that he forgot to climb his tree. Aborigines are expert climbers,

and use both hands and feet to run up a tree, in much the same
manner as a monkey. In fact their first instinct in an emergency

had left him no time

Instead he hurled himself headlong into the
grass to race for his life. Either the tiger was kind-hearted, or
to climb a tree, but the tiger

of this kind

is

even to do

this.

I7O

CALL OF THE TIGER

Fate was kind to the headman, for the tiger did not pursue him,
but, still roaring and growling, disappeared into the jungle
behind him. I caught a glimpse of him as he went, but it was
not worth risking a shot which might have meant death to my
friend through a wounded tiger. The roaring had sent the

up the trees, and pandemonium raged

around me. When peace was restored I went in search of the
headman, and found him a quarter of a mile away on the
jungle road, a mass of scratches from the thorns he had
encountered, and nursing a ricked ankle, but thankful, I feel
sure, that nothing worse had happened to him. I patted him
on the back, and made a great fuss over him, imagining what I
myself might have done, unarmed, in a similar position. Had
I laughed at him, his position in the village would have become
beaters helter skelter

untenable.
did not get a stag. I wanted that tiger, and decided to call
it a day, to give him time to recover from the beat, and settle
down peacefully in the jungle which was so conveniently near
camp. I was interested later to discover that the aborigines of

We

these parts regarded their tiger more or less as a family butcher.

They lived almost entirely on the produce of the jungle; roots,

herbs, yams, and jungle fruits, which meant that they spent
their days more in the jungles than at home, and in the course

of their foraging often came across deer or pig killed by a

tiger, and were thankful to annex the meat. They avoided all
mention of tigers. Even when they knew, or must have known,
there was a tiger in the jungle, they flatly denied all knowledge
Whether this was because of a superof any tiger anywhere
liked
their tigers, I was never quite able
or
because
stition,
they
!

to discover.

There was buffalo news for me the next day. The scouts had
discovered that buffaloes raided the fields at night near a village
about seven miles away. They had seen a small herd consisting
of a big bull, a smaller bull, and a few cows, and had also come
across the tracks of a solitary big bull, who was reputed to be
very large and kept himself very much to himself. That was the
one that interested me, of course.
To get to the fields by dawn meant making a very early start
next morning. The trackers and I started out in the dark, and
arrived at the fields just as it was beginning to get light. On
inquiring from a naked figure perched on a high platform on

THE GREAT INDIAN WILD BUFFALO

171

poles whether he had seen the buffaloes, he said "No", fyut that
the watchman in the fields half a mile away had been shouting
a short while earlier, and, maybe, he had been trying to drive
them away. Standing up on his platform he shouted to the
watchman by name. "Yes," came the answer. "The buffaloes
were here a short while ago." We now hastened through the
fields to join

My

him.

no time in getting to work, and, like hounds

a
up scent, they moved round in circles. There
were numerous tracks near the fields, but they were looking for
those of the big bull, who may or may not have been with the
trackers lost

trying to pick

Presently one of the trackers motioned the others to

There was a nodding of heads, and they signalled me
him.
join
to come over to them.
If you have not seen the tracks of an Indian wild bull buffalo
before, you will be astonished at their great size. They are
about twice the size of the African buffalo's. This is not only
because the animal is larger, but because the Indian wild
buffalo loves wallowing in swamps, and spends a good deal of
his time in marshy places, where, for a heavy animal, large feet
are a decided advantage. Dame Nature has therefore endowed
him with outsize feet.
Tracking through the short dew-laden grass in the vicinity of
the fields was easy enough, but, presently, we struck a patch of
hard stony ground, where no trace of any tracks was visible to
my eyes. The trackers fanned out again, until, with a click of
his tongue and a broad smile, one of them called us over to
where he had found the unmistakable sign, to which he was
pointing triumphantly with the end of his bow. As we entered
the jungle beyond, the first rays of the sun began lighting up
the treetops ahead of us, and presently we found ourselves
submerged in a sea of tall grass, which in most places was well
over my head. It was here that I discovered to my joy that the
men with me were real experts. Bending down from time to
time they separated the tangled grass with their hands, and
carefully examined the tracks to make sure they had not lost
the trail in the mass of other tracks crossing and re-crossing our
line. Except for their loin-cloths they were stark naked, and
others.

they were shivering from the icy cold dew-drops, which were
sparkling on their bare bodies. I, too, was soon soaking wet, and
wet through, but delightfully
felt like a spaniel in a marsh

CALL OF THE TIGER

172

happy.

We went forward very slowly

and in absolute

silence.

The business had begun, and I eagerly looked forward to catching the first glimpse of those enormous horns. It was my duty to
look ahead and to the flanks, and to leave the tracking to the
experts. Much as I was tempted from time to time to watch
these

human

sleuth

hounds at work

had

to keep

reminding

myself of this duty, and kept my eyes fixed on the task allotted
to me. During a check, however, it was indeed a pleasure to
watch them for a while, almost sniffing out the scent, so to
speak, and then discovering in a tangled mass of grass and
jungle, the minutest of clues which would guide us on our way.
Sometimes it was a nibbled blade of grass, then a tiny bit of
bark rubbed off a tree or creeper by the big horns in passing,
or an upturned pebble, a twig snapped underfoot, or a leaf

dangling from a broken stem. It was indeed fascinating to

watch.
Two hours of tracking through the high grass brought us at
last to an open glade, and I heaved a sigh of relief that I could
see around me once again. Here the buffalo had stopped to
graze, and the grass was nibbled and trampled down in several

He had wandered round and round in small circles,

and the trackers were at pains to discover the ultimate line he
had taken to enter the heavy jungle beyond. But now by
casting round they had found it, and before we had gone much
further we came upon fresh droppings. A tracker immediately
stuck his big toe into the large cow-pat, and a grin came over
his face. Here my mind flashed back over the years to my old
friends Darbari and Saktu, and to that first time I had set out
with them to track that bison in the hills near Lamta. Saktu
had used his toe in the same disgusting manner, and had
grinned the same grin of triumph that my friend was grinning
now. The warmth of the dung was an indication that our
quarry was not far ahead.
From now on we moved with increased caution, checking up
frequently on the wind. Buffaloes are blessed with an extremely
acute sense of smell, and it is useless going ahead if the wind is
wrong. Suddenly a tracker laid his hand on my arm. I
strained my eyes to see what he had seen in the depths of the
dense jungle ahead. There was a sudden movement of big
horns, and the huge buffalo crashed away without giving me
places.

the chance of a shot. I

felt

absolutely

mad with myself.

THE GREAT INDIAN WILD BUFFALO

There was nothing

to

be done

173

now but to sit down and wait

to make the buffalo feel it was

a quarter of an hour,
a
chance
just
meeting, and that he was not being pursued. He
would possibly calm down then and give me my second chance.
The trackers were now fully assured that sooner or later they
would lead me up to him. An hour might pass or even two
without catching up oil him, but that did not matter. He would
be bound to settle down in the heat of the day to have a little
for at least

snooze.

When we resumed the chase, we came to a spot a couple of

miles ahead, where the buffalo had rested for a while in the
shade of the big trees, but apparently he had decided to go on,
and the tracks now headed in the direction of a big marsh. It
was nearing midday and the sun was very hot. He was probably
on his way to wallow in the swamp. The trackers now moved

They felt we should hurry to get to the swamp in time.

The swamp consisted of a long narrow belt of small pools,

apace.

and high reeds, covering an area of about twenty acres,

surrounded by heavy jungle on all sides. It was about three
hundred yards wide in the middle, and when we reached it we
noticed innumerable buffalo tracks leading into the marsh.
We were able, however, to distinguish the huge tracks of our
quarry, and from the muddiness of the water seeping into them,
it was quite obvious that they were very fresh.
I noticed my trackers were hesitant, and were looking at the
swamp with misgivings, for now there were no trees anywhere
ahead, and they had only Providence and my rifle for proslush

It was like leaving the

I signalled them to go on.
a
in
of
to
the
France. As we moved
trench
"over
safety
go
top"
forward the reeds seemed to grow taller and taller. Suddenly
the trackers bobbed down, and signalled me excitedly to come
to their side, Peering through the reeds, a magnificent sight

tection.

Forty yards ahead, standing knee deep in an

an
was
black buffalo, carrying a wonderful
enormous
open pool
I
of
such
as
had
horns,
always dreamed of. He had just
pair
his
was
and
thirst,
quenched
looking round suspiciously, as
his
ears
little sound. I raised my rifle,
had
some
though
caught

greeted

my eyes.

but as

in the

tail,

did

so,

he turned away.

and lowered

did not fancy plonking

into the tall rushes beyond.

knew now that he was going to

We

him

my rifle to watch him disappear slowly

lie

down and wallow

in

174

CALL OF THE TIGER

and decided to give him a few minutes' start.

we
heard
the unmistakable sounds of squelching slush
Presently
and splashing water, and again we prepared to advance.
Checking the wind carefully we moved round, and selected the
driest route we could find, so as to make the least possible noise
in moving forward. The trackers now allowed me to take the
lead, and I moved forward with my thumb on the safety-catch.
The thought struck me rather forcibly that I was perhaps being
the slushy mire,

imprudent in doing just what I was doing at that

moment, following one of the most dangerous animals on earth
into a veritable death-trap of a morass, where I was likely to be
absolutely at his mercy, but it was hardly the time now to reconsider my decision. Inwardly I was cursing the squelching
sound my shoes were making every time I pulled my foot out
of the slush, and innumerable little frogs were jumping out of
my way, splashing into the water ahead, and doing their
damnedest to warn the buffalo of our approach.
Very suddenly the trackers disappeared as if by magic, and
ten yards ahead of me a huge monster rose from the marsh. He
threw up his head, and his enormous horns swept back over his
shoulders as he turned to face me. I did not stop to think, but
a

trifle

fired the right barrel of

see him collapse, but he

my

^470 into his chest.

expected to

merely swung
my shot, and blinded
with pain and rage charged a tracker who had been silly
enough to try and run for it. I fired the second barrel just as he
lowered his head to descend like an avalanche on the unfortunate tracker, and by doing so just managed to save his life. The
shock from the heavy bullet caused the buffalo to miss his mark.
To avoid the sweep of the huge horns the tracker had dived
head first into the reeds. My shot did not so much as make the
buffalo check in his stride, and I felt as though I was holding an
air-gun and not a heavy rifle in my hands. The buffalo had
galloped straight on out of the swamp into the heavy jungle
beyond. The trackers were gasping, with their knees still
buckling under them with fright, and I, why I, too, Sir, was a
trifle out of breath. It had been a breath-taking encounter, and
a pretty narrow squeak for at least one of our party. Fortunately, a sense of humour came to my rescue, and when I
laughed we all had a good laugh at ourselves. One can often
have a good laugh at oneself- if one lives to laugh
Our nerves needed a little steadying, so we decided to sit
to

THE GREAT INDIAN WILD BUFFALO

175

down and wait a few minutes before tackling the business ahead
of us. The trackers sat down in the sun, and were soon scratching themselves contentedly, smoking tobacco rolled up in a
green leaf for a pipe. Soon they did not seem to have a care in
the world.
When we took up the trail again, there was no blood to be

found anywhere. I tried to persuade myself that solid bullets

were poor at providing a blood trail, but when we had gone
about a hundred and fifty yards without finding blood, my
hopes began to vanish. The tracks, however, showed that the
gallop had ended, and the buffalo had slowed down to a walk.
Then I noticed that a small sapling ahead had been knocked
down and broken off about five feet from the ground, and on

hopes began to rise again, for this was indeed a

Further ahead there was some dead ground
hopeful sign.
hidden in the dip of a nullah surrounded by thick scrub, and we
paused to consider the situation before going ahead. It looked
seeing this

my

of ambush a wounded buffalo would choose. When

a
tracker
up a tree, he started pointing excitedly towards
put
the bushes, but for the life of me I could not see anything from
the ground. Then he called out that he could see the buffalo
lying dead. I went forward slowly with my rifle at the ready.
Not once, but many a time, has a sportsman been killed by a
wounded buffalo he had assumed dead, and on one occasion it
actually happened while he was measuring the horns. I was
taking no chances on that happening now.
But the buffalo was dead. On reaching the hidden ground
he had turned round to face his pursuers. Had we followed at
once he might quite easily have had his revenge, but alas for
him his last hope had failed him. He had waited for us there
in vain. The powerful rifle had done its work. His strength had
failed him and he had sunk down on his knees to die without
uttering a sound. I was amazed at his enormous size, and the
great girth of his massive neck. I am not given to fits of remorse,
but I felt sorry when I saw this magnificent animal lying dead
before me. His horns measured 1 24 inches from tip to tip across
the forehead not a record by a very long chalk, but, maybe,
a bit bigger than anything one usually has hanging on a wall at
like the sort

home.

The

aborigines took charge of the carcass after we had

Dozens appeared from out of the forest,

removed the head.

CALL OF THE TIGER

176

and proceeded forthwith

to cut up the meat, while others prethe

for
here
camp,
they would stay encamped around
pared
the buffalo, until no vestige of the meat remained. No campcots or clothes were needed here.
camp fire would be their
blanket at night, and the jungle would be their home. Meat

at hand, and that was all they wanted.

of the buffalo had reached camp before me. When I
was returning there in the evening, the village maidens stopped

and water were

News

me

with their bamboos and ropes, and demanded five rupees.

fee for a tiger or a buffalo. They were happy
people, so happy that I still wonder whether civilization really
is the boon some people think it is. I also sometimes cross my

That was the

fingers

when

I see the big

head on the

wall.

CHAPTER

XIII

HIMALAYAN HOTCHPOTCH
THOSE WHO HAVE spent a winter or even part of one in a hill
Himalayas must know that when the social season
end of October, the visitors depart to return to
the sunny Plains, the shops and offices close down, and most
private bungalows are left deserted for the winter, which lasts
till the end of March. The town assumes a moribund
appearThe shop-windows are boarded up, and large brass
ance.
locks appear on the doors, with here and there a notice:
"CLOSED FOR WINTER."
Masonry gateways and pillars are

station of the

finishes at the

covered over with thatch to ward off the ^cracking effects of

snow and ice, and desolation takes the place of gaiety. Only a
few spartans remain to enjoy the snow, the champagne in the
air, the freedom of the deserted roads, and the shooting
pheasants, chikor, gural, barking deer, and the bears, who, at
this time of year are driven down by the snows at higher
altitudes, and arrive to feed on the acorns of the ubiquitous
oaks on the lower ranges. Snow and cold also drive down the
hardy hillmen, who, with their household goods and chattels
loaded on their cattle and on their own backs, now descend to
lower altitudes and warmer climes. The panthers of the hills,
now hard put to it for food, close in round the towns, where
stray dogs and. goats become their chief source of food and
interest.
Chowkidars in charge of deserted bungalows bang
drums and kerosene oil tins at night, to warn burglars that they
are awake, and call out at intervals to their colleagues in
neighbouring houses to confirm that "All is well".
I used to enjoy visiting the hills during my leave in the hot

weather, but it so happened, now many years ago, that, to fit

in with the unit's annual leave programme, I had to take my

month's leave in February, and decided, perhaps foolishly, to

enjoy myself in the snow. My decision was received with misgivings by my servants, who made it quite clear that they did
not at all relish the idea of going up to the hills in mid-winter,
and, when we got there, they made it even more obvious that
177

CALL OF THE TIGER

178

they would willingly leave me to enjoy the snow on my own. In

nearly turned out that way, for soon after our arrival a
dreadful thing happened. While they were serving dinner in
the evening we were startled to hear the most piercing wails
and screams that I had ever heard in my life. The three or four
servants in the compound all rushed to the house, and ran.into
the dining-room, looking pale with fright. All they could gasp
was "Churail Churail !"
churail is the ghost of a woman
who died in child-birth, and is one of the most dreaded by
Indians of all the ghosts and evil spirits of their belief. The
apparition, when seen, is a fearful sight indeed. The eyes glow
like red-hot coals, the hair is dishevelled, the face distorted and
terrifying, and, worst of all, its feet are turned the wrong way
round, so you cannot tell whether it is coming or going. To
our horror the terrifying shrieks were repeated, reducing my
slaves to a state of panic. They were literally dithering with
fright. I ordered the bearer to fetch my gun from the bedroom.
At this they all beseeched me not to attempt to shoot the ghost,
for that would bring disaster on them all. I reassured them by
saying that the disaster, if it came, would come to me alone,
and to take the full responsibility on to my own shoulders I now
went and fetched the gun myself. Pushing a couple of cartridges
into the breech, I stepped out bravely into the inky-black
darkness of the night. There I fired a shot into a pine tree, and
the "Churail" flew away. So that was that. I have never
actually seen a churail, but believe it is a kind of owl. However,
fact, it

my

servants'

explained that

remained unshaken, and the more I

was only a bird, the more their apprehension

belief
it

grew.

day or two later I received another solemn deputation.

servants arrived en bloc to say that during the night they
had all heard most terrible screams, like the shrieks of a soul in
torment. They were sure the place had again been visited by

The

They were so very much in earnest that their

be treated lightly. I therefore decided to show
deep concern, and started a thorough investigation. It was
perhaps just as well that I did so, because ten yards from the
kitchen I found blood, and the ground around it had been
scratched and scraped up by the claws of some animal. I then
looked round for further clues, and presently found the pugmarks of a panther in the damp earth of a flower-bed. Beyond
some

evil spirit.

fears could not

HIMALAYAN HOTCHPOTCH
was a

179

drag through the garden and over a

badminton court into a thickly wooded ravine below and there,
that there

distinct

I found the half-eaten remains of a big "Bhotia"

a
long-haired black dog about the size of a large Alsatian.
dog,
So now the evil-spirit had been located The poor hungry dog
had been stalked and killed while on a visit to the kitchen bin.
That evening I sat in a hide-out on the ground near the kill.
It was freezingly cold, and after sitting a couple of hours in

to

my joy,

complete darkness, I was on the

of
I
when
heard
the kill being moved. I raised
giving up,
point
rifle
and
the
torch
switch, and there was the panther,
my
pressed
but before I could press the trigger the wretched bulb fused, and

rigid silence, the latter half in

heard the panther bound away. There was nothing more to

be done about that. I left the kill where it was and walked
I

back up the

hill to

the house.

That night the panther removed the kill, and finished off the
remains. He had won the first round, but the fight was on.
There was a nice little spur below the house jutting out towards
the jungly hills, and here it was that I decided to make myself a
comfortable machan. I took up my position shortly before
sundown in the evening, and when I had settled myself in, a
white goat was brought along and tethered to a small bush
about fifteen yards away. It had a powerful voice, and did its
duty well, but no panther came. I sat on in pitch darkness for
two or three hours, but when I turned on my torch to get down
from the tree I was astonished to see the goat lying dead. The
panther had strangled it in absolute silence, and then sneaked

away without having a meal. I decided at once to continue my

vigil, and spent the whole of that freezingly cold night in my
tree. The panther, however, did not return.
At dawn I covered over the kill with a few leafy branches to
protect it from vultures, and crawled back to the house, just in
time for a very welcome cup of hot tea. My servants were more
convinced than ever now that it was an evil spirit, and not a
panther after all
In the evening, about an hour before sunset, I climbed into
my machan again, but I must admit that I was feeling anything
but full of hope. If the panther came at all I thought he would
come rather late, and I prepared myself for a longish vigil.
However, when the sun set, and the light of day was beginning
to fade, I was amazed to see a panther appear on the open
!

GALL OF THE TIGER

l8o

about twenty yards below the kill. After having a good

look round, he flattened himself to the ground and started
crawling up the ridge as if he were stalking a living animal. It
was just his cunning way of avoiding being seen on the skyline,
for he knew, of course, that he was in an exposed position. It
was a sight so well worth watching, and I was so enthralled that
I forgot to notice it was getting darker and darker every second.
He was moving so very slowly that by the time he reached a
point a few yards below the kill I could hardly see him. However, he now seemed to feel assured that there was nobody
ridge,

about, and that he was quite safe. Casting all further precautions aside he stood up and advanced towards the kill. I

got ready to take my shot. I was using a shotgun, and fired

without using the torch. The panther roared, a sure indication
of being hit, but he bounded down the hill and completely dis-

appeared.

was up before dawn next morning, and on the spot at the

of daylight. There was blood a few yards down the
the
but
hill,
panther had travelled about thirty yards at top
I

earliest signs

speed, before turning left along a steep hillside, where, judging

by the heavy blood trail he must have slowed down to a walk.

After that the blood trail led downwards again towards a deep
ravine about forty yards below. I was carrying my shotgun

loaded with ball and slugs, and was accompanied by a man

carrying a rifle. I had to do the tracking in addition to looking
ahead, and our advance was perforce very slow. I was bending
down looking for blood, when, with a coughing roar the
panther sprang out of the bushes about ten yards ahead of us
and charged. I have never been one of those wild west hipshooters, but on this occasion I hardly had time to bring my
gun up to my shoulder, and fired both barrels at point blank
range. Fortunately for us the panther fell over sideways, and
rolled into the ravine, because when I turned for my rifle I
found my gun-bearer struggling to get it back over his shoulders
with the sling stuck under his chin A fat lot of use he and his
!

slung

rifle

thanked

my

stars the

me

in a real emergency! I
had
not been able to come
panther

would have been to

straight on.

When we looked for the panther in the ravine, we were

astonished to find he was not there.
pool of blood showed

where he had been hiding, but somehow he had managed to

HIMALAYAN HOTCHPOTCH

l8l

crawl out of the ravine into some rocks and very heavy thorn
scrub on the other side. To follow the trail now into this
tangled mass would have been sheer madness. However with
the arrival of a few reinforcements I got half a dozen men to
stone the brushwood from above, and finally finished the
panther off with a rifle shot while he was attempting to crawl

away down

the

hill.

This panther had a magnificent winter

coat.

The Himalayan chamois, known

in his

own

country as the

one of the gamest of little game animals to be found

gural
anywhere. He is a small brownish goat with small curved
goaty horns, which look nothing of a trophy on a wall, but he
is the mountaineer of the lower Himalayas and lives in the
most inaccessible and precipitous places, which defy even the
is

highlanders of his own native hills. Personally I hate cliffs, and

going after goats or sheep has always ended in being rather a
nightmare for me. Nevertheless I find myself compelled by an
irresistible impulse to chase these animals whenever I get the
chance, although I know, even before I start, that the precipices, dropping sheer for hundreds of feet will make my head
swim and my body reel to cling to the hillside when I look
down from the dizzy heights into the deep chasms away down
in the depths far below.
It was on one of these occasions that I found myself perched
precariously on a precipice, watching the cliffs across a deep
steep grassy hillvalley. It was typical Gural country
with perpendicular rocky cliffs, shaley landslides, and
deep ravines leading abruptly downwards to a rumbling

narrow

sides

which splashed and bounded on its way

long winding valley, leading to the Plains several

mountain

down a
thousand

torrent,

feet below.

Sitting next to me was a young highlander of these hills,

also were scanning the hillside for a sight of the

whose keen eyes

arm he exclaimed "Kaker !"

goats. Suddenly, catching
see
I
but
could
nothing that looked anything
(Barking deer),
like a kaker anywhere. I got him to explain exactly where it

little

my

was, but when I examined the spot through my fieldglasses I

discovered it was not a barking deer but a panther. It was
about three hundred yards away, but presently started moving
obliquely across the hill, and seemed to be coming more or
less in our direction. I decided therefore to await my chance.

CALL OF THE TIGER

l82

He

disappeared into one of the intervening ravines, and a few

seconds later five gural came over the ridge at speed, and
crossed the cliff in front of us with as much ease as if they had
run across a football ground. They posted themselves on rocks
as look-out posts, and kept giving their alarm cry which is just
like a "Sneeze".
It was at least ten minutes before we saw
anything more of the panther. Then he reappeared following
in the tracks of the gural, and it was extremely interesting to

watch how slowly and carefully he moved forward, making full

use of ground and cover to carry out a stalk. As time went on
the gural started getting impatient, and presently started to
graze, all except one, which, through the glasses, looked like an
old Nanny Goat. She was on a rock about fifteen yards above
the others, and she acted as sentry, standing as still as a statue,
the only movement being an occasional flick of her ears. Meanwhile the panther had crept forward inch by inch, and had now
reached a small ridge about forty yards from his quarry. Here
he sat crouching and stock still, carefully studying every move
the goats were making. He was obviously summing up the
situation before taking the final step, and I kept wondering
whether he would have the good sense to realize that goats and
sheep should always be approached from above, but either the
ground was unfavourable for this, or he did not know this rule,
for he crept forward over the ridge, and got behind a bush. I
think the old Nanny goat must have seen this last movement.
Her suspicions had certainly been aroused for she now stood
gazing at this spot, and began stamping impatiently with one
of her forefeet. The others also stopped grazing, and looked in
the same direction. They were all very much on the alert. And
then the panther did something that I have very seldom seen a
panther do he stood up on his hind legs to look over the
bush, and that finished that. The old girl gave a sneeze, and
the whole lot dashed headlong down the cliff, bounding from
rock to rock, stopping only, as gural always do, to take a look
ahead before crossing over the next ridge. The panther realized
he had lost, and returned to the ridge behind him, where, at
about a hundred and fifty yards, I took the easy shot he offered,
and he rolled a hundred feet or more into the thick scrub below
the

cliff.

must have been rather petty-minded in those days.

constant beating of drums and empty kerosene oil tins at

I fear I

The

HIMALAYAN HOTCHPOTCH

183

night had been keeping me awake. The deserted bungalow next

door had a particularly noisy caretaker, who used to beat a drum
mercilessly for hours on end. I sent my bearer over one day to
ask him not to make quite such a noise, but I received an
impolite reply. It is more than likely that my bearer did not
make the right approach, or he may have been too bossy with
the caretaker, but, at any rate, the reply he got was "I am not

your Sahib's servant". He kept me awake the next night, and

it was then that a brain-wave struck me. I got out of bed and
donned my fancy-dress, and in a few minutes I was a "Red
Shirt" Pathan, with white tresses and a flowing white beard,
topped by a blue and black silk lungi (Pathan turban). In a
few minutes I had transformed myself into a Frontier Chieftain.
I was the "Haji of Turangzai", and that firebrand's spirit had
entered into my soul. I strode into the moonlight with a stout
stick in my hand. I would teach that son-of-a-gun a lesson
Most houses in the hills have railings round them, and I decided
to approach from below, so that when I got to the railings my
enemy would be taken by surprise. Having got there, I peeped
through the railings, and saw him sitting on an open veranda
only a few yards away, with a drum across his knees, and a
stout stick beside him. I did not at all like the looks of the
!

latter, but, after all, I

had come on

business.

The watchman

was, as usual, knocking hell out of the drum, and had not seen
me. The moonlight was full on me as I raised myself slowly to

my full

height,

and

also slowly raised

my stick

to

my shoulder.

yell of terror the watchman threw away his drum,

I even had time to think, had jumped clean over
before
and,
the railings, and was racing down the hill screaming for help.
The whole hillside then took up the alarm, but my mission had
been fulfilled. I returned to bed and slept.

With a

The news spread like wild-fire, and I was amused to hear;

many thrilling but grossly exaggerated accounts of the incident
next day. Some declared the apparition was definitely a ghost.
Others said it was a huge man at least eight feet high, with
white hair and a long white beard, dressed in a bright red shirt
that reached down almost to his knees. But what pleased me
most of all was that the watchman never played his drum
again.

But while on this subject, and before I leave this winter's tale,
friend of
I feel I should tell the story of another watchman.

184

CALL OF THE TIGER

mine was coming home along a main road round about sunset,
when he heard the terrified shrieks of an Indian woman, coming
from the bungalow about

fifty

yards below the road.

He

ran

to the railings, and was horrified to see a hill woman being

carried off by an enormous black bear. The bear was ambling

off on his hindlegs, carrying the woman in his arms, and she
was screaming her lungs out for help. Below the house there
were some terraced fields, such as one sees in the hills, and when
he got down as far as these he dropped the woman from terrace
to terrace jumping down each time after her, and was finally
making off with her into the thickly wooded forest beyond when
her husband and some others rushed to her rescue, and
managed to save her by driving away the bear. I had often
heard of hill women being carried away by bears, but never
from such an authentic source. Anyway, the bear disappeared,
but was seen next morning entering a cave about three quarters
of a mile away from the scene of this incident. The men who
saw him immediately ran in search of someone to shoot the
bear, but it so happened that the only person available was an
elderly British resident, whose armament consisted of a very

hammer shotgun, as old, if not older than

rose to the occasion, and accompanied
he
However,
men
went down to the cave, which was
he
or
four
three
by
situated on a very steep hillside in a dense oak forest. The hill
was so steep that the old gentleman had to be assisted by the
others to get down to the cave, but when they got there they
found that there were no means of looking into the cave, which
was concealed under a huge perpendicular rock, and the only
approach to the mouth of the cave was along a narrow rocky
ledge, below which there was a sheer drop of about thirty feet
to the steep slope below. It was an impossible situation, but
one of the hill men who was the watchman of a neighbouring
bungalow, at once volunteered to dislodge the bear. While the
old gentleman waited at the ready with his gun, this very
gallant watch-man, armed only with a billhook, crept along
the ledge, and on reaching the mouth of the cave shouted
"Nikil Salay!" (Come out you old basket!) With a woof of
rage the bear rushed at him and carried the watchman headlong
over the cliff. The old gentleman fired his gun, and the bear
left the man to bolt up the hill. There was a heavy blood trail
which was followed all day until they reached a stream where
old double barrelled
himself.

HIMALAYAN HOTCHPOTCH

185

the trail was lost, and then for lack of time before nightfall the
chase was finally abandoned. Alas
If only they had known
The bear was lying dead in a thicket less than a hundred yards
away, and it was not till some weeks later that the vultures gave
away the secret.
!

how brave

This story goes to show

these hill

It is only the fear of the supernatural that

them, and I dread to think what might have

men

happened

red shirt and long white beard had not turned

ghost

my

really are.

sometimes defeats
to

me

me if

into

Many years ago I remember reading about a remarkable

coincidence.
sportsman had a tiger beat, and while the beat

was

in progress

and he was waiting

for the tiger to appear,

an

eagle came and settled on a tree-stump, about thirty yards from

his machan. Then he heard something approaching over the

dry leaves, and, believing it to be the tiger, got ready to take

his shot. Instead, a peacock strutted out of the bushes, and the
eagle immediately swooped, caught him by the neck, and
carried him away. A couple of minutes later a tiger came out
in the beat, and the sportsman bagged him. Twenty years later
he found himself sitting in the same tree, waiting for a tiger to
be driven out in a beat when to his astonishment an eagle came
and alighted on the same tree-stump, and presently a peacock
appeared, and the eagle carried him off in exactly the same
way. The sportsman regarded this as something of a good
omen, but hardly thought the whole drama would be reacted, step by step, as it had occurred twenty years earlier.
However, out came the tiger, and he shot it within a yard or

two of where he had shot the

first

one.

that tigers do seem

is, of course, quite common knowledge
to follow the same course in a beat that other tigers did before
them, and are shot, year after year, in the same places, but I
was very taken with this story, because, although I have myself
shot tigers and panthers in the same place and in similar
circumstances, the repetition of the same combination of
circumstances in this case was truly remarkable. It could, of
course, have been the same eagle, but certainly not the same
peacock or the same tiger I remember as a small boy hearing
someone say that three times the life of a dog was the life of a
horse, and three times a horse's life was the life of a man, and
It

CALL OF THE TIGER

l86

life was the life of a stag or an eagle, and

was the life of an oak tree. If this is to be
believed, it probably was the same eagle. It is also probable that
both beats took place at the same time of year, because the

three times a man's

three times that

seasons

make a great difference in the type of place a tiger

lie up in. In fact, when a sportsman is depending on

chooses to

local knowledge, and has been informed that many tigers have
been shot in a certain beat, and from a certain tree, the one

question he should ask is whether it was in the hot or cold

weather, for it is on this that the success of his own beat will
depend. A tiger always lies up on the sunny side of a hill in
winter, but chooses the shady side in the hot weather, and this
important fact is apt to be overlooked by local shikaris. In
summer, there must be water in the area enclosed by the beat,
or the tiger will not be found to be lying up in that area.
And now to tell of a fairly remarkable coincidence of my own
experience. It was at the end of World War II, that I found
myself free to wander over the hills again. I felt compelled to
breathe the mountain air, and tread again the paths I had

trodden when I was young. Twenty-two years had gone by

since Fateh Singh had been mauled by that big panther, and
also since I had shot my first bear, but now, after many years
of trial and tribulation,

The

air

was

lovely,

I was free to visit Pari Tibba again.

and the sun was shining brightly that

afternoon, when with three or four coolies I set out for a tramp
descended into a deep valley, and after
over the hills.

We

crossing over a rippling mountain stream, started the climb up

the old mountain on the other side. The goat-track we used to

follow in the old days

had

fallen into disuse,

and presently we

with the thorny undergrowth.

two
of
my men were carrying billhooks
Fortunately, however,
and although we had to hack our way through in several places

found ourselves in

difficulties

we made good headway, and

eventually emerged on to an
the
mountain
stream, now a good two
open spur overlooking
thousand feet below us. Here we took a short breather before

going on.

The pathway then

led us to a big cave in the

side, where under a huge overhanging rock at the

mouth of the cave we found the fresh tracks of a pair of panthers,
distinctly visible in some powdered dust. From here we had
hardly gone another fifty yards when a most extraordinary
noise reached our ears. It was half clatter, half roar, and I

mountain

HIMALAYAN HOTCHPOTCH

187

had never heard anything quite like it in my life before. My

too looked puzzled, and when I asked them what it was

men

they shook their heads, but said they thought

it

might be bears

fighting.
The noise

had come from the hillside about five hundred feet

above us. Realizing that our best chance of seeing the animals
would lie in climbing to a spur on the opposite hillside, we
now hurried to cross over a deep ravine to get there. While
and scrambling through the thorny scrub in the
the clattering roar repeated, and my men now
were more convinced than ever that the noise was being made
by bears. However, by the time we reached the spur there was
absolutely nothing to be seen anywhere. It was a strange fact,
however, that I was now sitting in exactly the same place as I
had sat to fire at my first bear twenty-two years earlier, and I
rather hoped that the old performance would now be repeated.
struggling

ravine

we heard

my field-glasses but
could discover nothing. At the top of the hill, about six or
seven hundred feet above us, about a hundred or more ravens
were flying round and round in wide circles, but there was
nothing extraordinary about that either, because ravens in the
I searched the opposite hillside through,

hills do delight in congregating to sail through the summer

breezes that sweep over the mountain tops at that time of year.
Flying into the strong wind they remain practically stationary
in mid-air, and then by swinging round are carried downwind at terrific speed, and, after circling round, return to do it
again, I imagine for the fun of it. However, what I did notice

few minutes was that about a dozen ravens kept swoopa large rock across the valley about four hundred yards
over
ing
but
even through my field-glasses I could not at first see
away,
Then a slight movement caught my eye, and
there.
anything
in
the
there, lying
yellowish brown grass above the rock was a
So
well did his coat blend with the dry grass
large panther.
that it was difficult to pick him out with the naked eye, although
I knew exactly where he was. I tried to find him over the iron
sights of my rifle, but could not see him. It would have been
pretty hopeless to try a shot. And how glad I was later that I
had not tried.
couple of minutes later a second panther
nowhere and sprang up on to the rock
from
suddenly appeared
after a

beside him.
For the next hour or so I witnessed a courtship such as

had

CALL OP THE TIGER

l88

never seen before. The girl-friend led him on from rock to rock
across a precipice, played hide and seek with him, pounced on
him only to dash away again, and eventually, having worked
him up into a frenzy, capitulated. It was then, when things
were at their peak, that she uttered this clattering noise while
turning round to bite his ear. I could not make out whether it
was he or she who made the roaring noise, but I think it was he,

and
roar

the two noises intermingling made the curious clattering

we had heard. When this performance had been repeated

a couple of times I suddenly realized the sun would soon be

disappearing over the hill. Milady had just jumped up on to a
high rock, and was looking down coquettishly at her lover,
inviting him to follow. He was now about three hundred yards
away, and almost exactly where the bear had stood to receive
my shot, but every time I raised my rifle, he seemed to disappear
behind the bead of the foresight. It was a case of now or never,

and in desperation I put my sights up to four hundred, and

rested him on top of the bead. At the shot he raced down the
hill roaring, and when he reached the top of the precipice,
within a yard of where the old bear had jumped into space, he
also sprang to try and reach a ledge about thirty feet away, but
turned over in mid-air and crashed down about a hundred feet
into the deep ravine, just as the bear had done twenty-two years
before him. It was an amazing repetition of the old scene.

And then

to

my

astonishment the girl-friend sauntered

down

following in his tracks. She paused at the top of the

precipice to look for him. Obviously her feminine pride had

the

hill

been outraged by his very abrupt departure, and she did not
seem to have cottoned on at all to what had actually happened.
I did not want to kill her. I knew she would call all night for
her missing boy-friend, and another would surely appear to
take his place, perhaps to provide me with another afternoon's
entertainment, so I fired a shot at the rock in front of her. She

completely ignored this gesture, so I fired again, and this time

she gathered herself for a spring, and bounded across the thirty
foot chasm which her lover had failed to make. He, poor chap,
had taken the bullet about an inch below the spine, about half-

way down

but missed him, but, alas for him,

his back.
broken
practically

his back.

had instead

It all

CHAPTER XIV

FOLLOWING UP

WHEN A FRIEND and I were out shooting together in Central

India a particularly large tiger killed a bullock in a small
Native State adjoining our Shooting Block. The Chief of the
State, who was not keen on tigers, sent us the news and invited
us to come and shoot the tiger. The invitation was, of course,
immediately accepted. After a journey of about ten miles on an
elephant, we arrived at the spot, and were welcomed there by
the Chief's Ranger, who had assembled about a hundred men
to act as beaters. All were armed with bows and arrows, and
all

seemed quite eager

for the fray.

did a quick reconnaissance, and found the bullock had been

killed in a field adjoining the forest, and had been dragged by
the tiger into very dense cover. The forest itself was a long
narrow strip of dense jungle about three quarters of a mile
wide, jutting out from the main forest, and bounded on both
I

its length.
What could have been
not, of course, attempt to break out
into the fields in daylight, and so it was just a matter of arranging the beat to drive him in a direction away from his kill,
which also happened to be the direction of the main forest,

sides

by

better?

fields

The

throughout

tiger

would

towards which he would quite naturally wish to go. It was as

ideal a beat as could be wished for. But what astonished me

was that the

locals insisted that the tiger,

when

driven,

would

keep along the edge of the forest, instead of trying to sneak

through the dense cover in the middle. They apparently
knew their jungles from long experience, and there may, of
course, have been a hidden nullah or other lead which induced
game to follow this route, but there was no time for me to make
a further reconnaissance, and I accepted their advice, as indeed
one should when one visits an unknown jungle. I must admit,
however, that it was with some misgivings that I placed my
friend's

machan in this position.

but, in

my own

come out

wanted him

to

bag the tiger,

would

heart, I hardly believed that the tiger

there.
189

CALL OF THE TIGER

However, I was wrong. The beat had hardly begun when
the tiger appeared exactly where they said he would, but he
disappeared again into some bushes before my friend could get
in his shot. Time went on, and the tiger lay concealed until
the beat was only about a hundred yards behind him, and then
he reappeared somewhat unexpectedly from cover more to
the right, forcing my friend to swing round to take rather an

The tiger fell over, roaring furiously, but

shot.
himself
up and bounded away into the jungle behind
picked
the machan. The Indian shikari, sitting with my friend in the
machan, said the tiger was the biggest he had ever seen in his
life
an enormous male of a light yellowish colour such as one
finds in Central India, and with an outsize ruff, which added
considerably to the majestic appearance of his huge head.
awkward

My

was almost under the machan and not

more than twenty yards away when he fired. He had aimed at
the head, but had a nasty feeling that the tiger had turned his
head just as he was pressing the trigger.
I did what I always do on these occasions, and spent a few
minutes examining the spot to try and discover exactly what
had occurred. I found that the bullet had made a hole in the
ground, which usually means a miss or only a superficial wound.
Not many sportsmen realize that a bullet nearly always cuts off
a few hairs from the animal, and, in the case of a tiger, when
the shot has been taken downwards from a machan, one almost
invariably finds a few hairs that show where the tiger has been
hit.
There is no mistaking what part of the body the hairs
belong to, because the variations in colour, length and feel tell
the tale, I now found on the ground a few short orange and
white hairs which brought me to the conclusion that the bullet
had grazed the tiger's cheek. Against the assumption that the
wound was only superficial was the fact that the tiger had been
knocked down, and, according to my friend, had rolled over
and over three or four times before recovering himself to make
good his escape. The shikari said he had heard the tiger crashing through the jungle for at least a hundred yards. This made

friend said the tiger

it

safe to follow the trail a short distance to look for blood.

Twenty yards ahead we found a few large drops of blood. As

had then galloped on into very dense cover, we
decided to sit down and wait for the customary half hour, before
attempting to follow any further. Meanwhile the beaters had
the tiger

FOLLOWING UP

IQl

collected near the scene of action, and were listening intently to

the graphic description being given by the shikari of the huge
tiger, its furious roars and its ferocious behaviour after being

wounded. All were agog, and there was much speculation

going on as to what would happen next. We took this opportunity of sending for the elephant, who had been left behind in
a field during the beat. He was a fine young tusker, about
twenty-five years of age.
It

was now when

that a

comedy

practically all was ready for the next step

began to unfold itself. The Ranger, a fat little

man

clad in khaki shirt and shorts and wearing a solar topee,

came up to us and announced dramatically that he had just

received a very urgent message to say His Highness wished to

see him, and that he was therefore compelled, much against his
will, to leave us at once. He much regretted that he would not

be able to accompany us in following up the wounded tiger,

The poor man
but he would leave his assistant to assist us
looked pale and nervous, and there was a hollow ring about the
Little did he realize that we had no
story he had told us.
intention of endangering his life anyway, so we thanked him
very much for the arrangements he had made for the beat,
!

which, by the way, had been excellent, and he bowed and went
his way.
The elephant had arrived, and it would have suited the
occasion if we had decided to use him to follow up, but one
look at his Mahawat convinced me that he too had no stomach
for the fight. Besides, the elephant had been lent to us for our
shoot, and we did not fancy getting him mauled. The Assistant
Ranger was full of bravado, and volunteered to accompany us,
and finally, as a compromise, we gave him a shotgun and asked
him to follow behind us on the elephant, while we followed up
the

trail.

tracking,

After selecting four experienced stalwarts to do the

ordered the rest of the beaters to stay where they

we

were and to wait in absolute silence.

There was very little blood, and presently the trail led into an
extremely dense patch of high grass and leafy bushes, which
cut out practically all view in all directions. We started putting
men up trees to look ahead, and also signalled the elephant to
come up level on our flank. As we moved forward slowly in
dead silence, the air became tense with excitement. The jungle
was so quiet that you could have heard a mouse breathe. It

GALL OF THE TIGER

192

was

tummy rumbled as
tummies
sometimes
the
and
sound it made was
do,
elephants*
not unlike the low growl of a tiger. The trackers whipped
round nearly knocking us over, the Assistant Ranger fired his
gun, the elephant let out a shrill shriek, and the beaters, who
were less than seventy-five yards away, yelled with one accord,
and ran for their lives to scramble up the nearest trees. The
Mahawat, meanwhile, had swung his elephant round, and, to
add to the panic, was crashing through the jungle towards the
fleeing beaters. It was one of the best displays of mass hysteria
I had ever seen in a jungle.
Eventually, when we had all recovered from this nervous
breakdown, I asked the Assistant Ranger what he had fired at.
He simply said he thought the tiger was charging, so he had
I noticed that he was sitting on the elephant
fired in the air
minus his shoes and socks no doubt a precaution he had taken
just in case he found it necessary to forsake his mount and climb
at this juncture that the elephant's

tree.

we took up the trail again. It wound in and out of dense

but
nowhere had the tiger decided to halt or lie down.
cover,
Eventually, after about three hours of following with only a
small drop of blood here and there to guide us, we arrived at a
rocky ravine with a small pool of water. Here the tiger had
rolled on the ground, and left behind quite a collection of the
same short orange and white hairs, smeared with blood on a
smooth stone. After this the blood trail ceased altogether, and
we were compelled to abandon the chase. The sun was low on
the horizon, and we decided to make tracks for home.
We left camp before dawn next morning to renew the search.
In the absence of a blood trail it was impossible to guess which
way the tiger had gone. The trackers told us they had heard the
grey monkeys coughing in the jungle all through the night, but
all was quiet when they came out into the jungle in the morning. It was now that we were lucky enough to contact a herdsman with thirty or forty buffaloes in the forest. After a good
deal of persuasion, he decided to assist us, and we drove the
herd back and forth through all likely places, while my friend
and I placed eurselves on either flank to deal with any emergency. They were jungle buffaloes, used to grazing in the
Well,

and, had the tiger been anywhere there, they would

undoubtedly have found him, but even this last effort proved

forest,

FOLLOWING UP

IQ3

s, and finally, after a long and very tiring search we

regretfully abandoned all hope of finding the big tiger.
After we had given up all hope, and were preparing to return
to camp, the trackers asked if we would be willing to offer a
reward for finding the tiger. Their only outfit was their bows
and arrows, and, although the arrows looked more like javelins
than arrows, it would have been a mean thing to do to tempt

these poor fellows into risking their lives. I declined their offer
with thanks. No sportsman should ever in any circumstances
offer a reward to anyone to find a wounded tiger. It is his own
duty to continue the chase till no hope remains.
It was an unfortunate experience which bore out my old
belief that if a tiger gets away wounded and is not met with
again within the first half mile, it is almost a dead cert that he

away altogether, at any rate from the sportsman who

wounded him. He might even be found dead later or be caught
will get

in another beat or over a

kill,

but, as a general rule, unless the

down or dies within that half mile, the chances of

him
are nearly nil. But here now is another story
bagging

tiger lies

which goes to prove that nearly all theories should be accepted

with a certain amount of reserve, for, as we all know, it is often
the exception that goes to prove the rule.

A tiger of my acquaintance had become quite famous, firstly

because of his great size, and secondly because he had outwitted endless sportsmen, including myself. One of his habits
was to drag his kills long distances into dense cover, and as he
had been known on occasion to defend his kill, very few fancied
their chances in following drags for long distances through high
and dense cover into heavy jungle. He was a bad tempered

grass

old tiger, and beaters

flatly

refused to beat for him.

He

invariably charged the beaters, and after roaring furiously and

scattering the men, used to make good his escape. He had
mauled a beater or two seriously enough to convince all others
that he objected to interference, and, with his reputation

he enjoyed a life of almost complete independence.

he did not molest men if they left him alone, but
that did not deter him from lifting the fattest cows and calves
out of the herds of cattle grazing in the jungles. It was also a
fact that he had killed a herdsman, who, armed only with a
bamboo quarter-staff, had very bravely but stupidly run to the
rescue of a buffalo the tiger had overpowered. One stroke of the
established,

For

his part

CALL OF THE TIGER

IQ4

powerful forepaw had reduced the man's skull to pulp, but,

though he had killed his assailant, he had made no attempt to
carry him off or eat him, and he was, therefore, in the eyes of
jungle law, not considered a man-eater. The offence had been
committed on the spur of the moment, and had not been
repeated.
To deal with a tiger who drags his kill long distances it is
advisable to tie out an outsize bait, and also to select a spot
where a steep hillside or some other obstacle would prevent him

from carrying away the kill. This trick provides the anchor, so
to speak. I had tried it on our friend, but he defeated me by
refusing to touch a tied-up bait. He was, undoubtedly, an old
tiger of great experience. But in spite of all his cunning, Fate
led him one day to make an awful mistake. A mixed herd of
cows and buflfaloes was grazing peacefully just outside the
jungle at the foot of a thickly wooded hill, which jutted out at
right angles to the rest of the Siwalik range. The old tiger must
have been very hungry, for he did what tigers seldom do he
charged the herd in the open, sprang on to the back of his
victim, which chanced to be a full grown milch buffalo, and
having thrown her and cracked her neck in approved tiger
fashion, dragged the heavy carcass to the foot of the hill. Here
he ate his fill, and then tried to drag the remains further into the
jungle, but the steep hillside and the great weight of the carcass
defeated him. The screams and yells of the herdsmen did not
worry him, for he was used to screams and yells. He had enjoyed
his meal, and he had no intention now of abandoning his kill
He concealed it from the view of
for man, beast or bird.
vultures by dragging it under a bush, and took the further
precaution of covering over the exposed portions of the carcass
with leaves which he scraped up with his paws. He obviously
had every intention of returning to his kill. Having made all
these elaborate arrangements he then betook himself off to the
shade and security of the great forest, there to drink from a
crystal stream, indulge in a contented slumber, and await the
evening, when the sun would disappear behind the hills, and
he could return to finish off his dinner. From the top of the hill
he roared a great roar, expressing the joy he felt in his strength.
It would be a warning to all buffaloes, cows and to their
herdsmen For was he not the King of the Jungle, and who
could say him nay?
!

FOLLOWING UP

195

Meanwhile, two pairs of spindly brown legs were moving

apace to bring the news to me in camp. Jia Lai, my old shikari,
was smiling all over his face when he came to tell me what had
happened. It was indeed most excellent news.
When we got to the spot we found the kill lying where the old
tiger had left it, only about thirty yards from the edge of the
forest. It had been simple enough to follow up the drag this
time, but now we were confronted with another problem. The
carcass was lying in heavy scrub, and there was no suitable tree
for a machan. As tigers almost invariably come down a hill
when returning to their kills, it was necessary to find a position
that would not be overlooked from behind, and eventually it
was decided to place the machan fairly high up in a tree up the
hillside, almost straight above the kill. It was anything but an
ideal solution, as it would mean shooting almost straight downwards, but in this case there was no alternative. We also

moved

the carcass a few yards, to get it out of the bushes into a

suitable position for a shot, and, as it was in heavy scrub,
took good care to peg it down, so that the tiger could not

more

we

drag

it

away out of sight from

the machan. This

is

something

that a cunning tiger nearly always does, so in this case it was a

very necessary precaution. And finally we put the last touches

our preparations by cutting away the bushes round the kill.

This, however, was done sparingly, and the exposed stumps
were covered over with mud to make them less conspicuous.
to

At four

o'clock in the afternoon I got into the

machan.

few minutes later some wood-cutters arrived, and, much to my

annoyance, started cutting brushwood about half a mile away.
This meant that the tiger would not come till they had gone,
and I prayed that their departure would not be long delayed,
i'he noise of their voices and their axes continued exasperatingly
till nearly sundown, and then, with their departure, a deep
silence fell over the forest. It was the 3ist December, and it
was very cold. It was also, so far as I knew then, the last time I
should ever sit up for a tiger. I was due to leave India, never
to return.

A few

minutes later

heard the sound of a small displaced

down the hillside. It rattled its way through the

and came to rest not far from the kill. Then I heard

stone rolling

dry leaves,

the gentle brushing aside of the bushes, and finally the light
of the tiger approaching the kill.
big head appeared,

footfall

CALL OF THE TIGER

ig6

and very cautiously a huge tiger stepped into the clearing we

had made round the kill. He stood for a second or two, as if
taking stock of the situation, and then seized the kill with his
jaws and shook it violently. Tigers always do this to remove
the hornets, ants, and other stinging insects that find their way
into the carcass, and the noise, if it takes the sportsman unawares, makes him jump out of his skin in tie machan. The
tiger then tried to drag away the kill, but, despite the terrific
jerks, the ropes held well, and it was now that I very slowly
raised my rifle and aligned the sights, taking care not to make
the slightest noise in doing so. In the dim light I could hardly
see the tiger over the sights, but I took care to make as sure as
possible of hitting him between the shoulder blades, and
squeezed the trigger. The tiger let out three or four bloodcurdling roars, and bolted up the hill. He passed right under
my machan making roaring and grunting noises as he did so. I
was using a ^470 and wondered how he had managed to get
away.

and experienced tiger-slayers say that when a

immediately after a shot, it is a sure sign that he has
been hit. This is undoubtedly absolutely true, but I have found
that it is not sound to assume he has been missed just because he
fails to roar. When using a heavy rifle I have found that a wellplaced shot in a vital spot knocks the squeak out of the animal,
and if he manages to get away without roaring, he will most
assuredly be found lying dead, whereas if he roars it can be
assumed that the bullet has not inflicted a mortal wound and
the tiger, when followed up, will be found to be very much
alive. The roar I am referring to is, of course, the roar the
animal gives when the shot is fired, and not the roaring or
grunting noises that may be heard later when he is dying. With
a light rifle, the tell-tale roar does mean a hit, but it may also
mean a mortal wound, because the lighter bullet does not have
the power to shock the senses sufficiently to prevent the angry

Many

old

tiger roars

If the shot is fired in daylight, and the tiger bounds

the
surest indication of a mortal wound is the way he
away,
kinks and waves his tail. When he does this he is waving fareroar.

well to this world

and men had heard the shot, and also the loud
My
roars of the tiger. Half an hour later when I blew my whistle
for them to come and fetch me, it soon became quite obvious
shikari

FOLLOWING UP

197

their querulous and quavering shouts of inquiry, that

they
did not exactly relish the idea of coming for me. It was by now

from

pitch dark, without even the slightest trace of a moon to

reassure them. However, I told them that all was well, and at
last they advanced, carefully examining the ground with the
torches I had given them. When they drew close enough I
ordered the shikari to fire a shot or two with my shotgun before
advancing any further. This he did, and as there were no
sounds from the jungle, they were now fully reassured. Finally,
when only a few y< rds away, they heard something, and in

He was amazed when I

air.
marks
under
pellet
right
my machan in the
trunk of the tree next morning
Next day, which happened to be New Year's Day, I set out
long before dawn, and arrived at the scene of action just as the
wintry sun was beginning to shine over the hills. There was
lots of blood, and I hop~d to find the tiger lying dead, but it
did not turn out that way. After passing under my tree he had
galloped straight across an open clearing, and then entered
dense creeper-covered jungle on a steep hillside. The bloodpanic the shikari filed in the

showed him the

awful death-trap. Higher up the hill,

in
of trees were about twenty
the
branches
topmost
sitting
of
the
huddled
monkeys
together on the branches
grey variety,
in small groups of twos and threes trying to keep each other
trail led straight into this

for the morning was freezingly cold.

They looked
Their
frozen and regarded us with complete indifference.

warm,

presence there, however, was comforting. They would hardly

have been sitting there so placidly if the tiger were alive.
Anyway, they were not for giving away any jungle secrets, and
it was no use looking to them for any help, except that if the
tiger moved and they saw him they would immediately give the
alarm.
Bent double I followed the shikari along the trail into the
creepers, which were of the thick ropelike variety with big
leaves, and afforded excellent cover for a tiger but were a truly

formidable obstacle for us to negotiate. It was an extremely

dangerous and foolish thing to do to enter that death-trap, and
just as I was regretting my folly, there was a sudden commotion
in the tangled mass ahead of us, and my heart jumped into my
mouth. Then realizing that the animal was going down hill I
fought the creepers to try and catch sight of it, only to see a

198

CALL OF THE

TIOI'.R

barking deer skidaddling for its life. It w as now quite obvious

that the tiger was not there, and we follow Ved the trail through
the creepers with less fear of being pounced upon. When we

emerged the trail led on to a ridge and 'then into a further

tangled mass of creepers on a very steep hillside. This time I
sent my men up the hill to stone the creepe -s from above, while
I went round to the other end to await eventualities there.
Again nothing happened, but by scouting yound we discovered
that the tiger had passed right through, and the blood trail now
led straight along a ridge leading

up to th top of the hill.

always most unwise to approach a wounded tiger in the
hills from below. I realized this, but in th s case, unfortunately,
there was no alternative. All I could do was to try and reduce
the danger as far as possible by putting men up trees, to look
;

It is

ahead into the grass and bushes, and escape, if possible, from
an ambush. The men were put up one at a time, and I escorted
each one to the foot of the tree, and v aited there with my rifle
at the ready, to protect him in case of a charge before he got
high enough to be out of danger. The man remained there in
his tree as a look-out, until the next one had been posted, and

we sort

of leap-frogged forward, searching each bit carefully,

It was of necessity a very
before making a further advance.
slow and nerve-racking business. We threw stones ahead whenever this was possible, and did everything possible to avoid
so

being caught suddenly unawares.

When nearing the top of the hill, however, the trail entered
It became
high grass and extremely dense undergrowth.
it
even
from
and
was
not
to
see
ahead
trees,
possible
impossible
to stone more than a few yards ahead either. It had taken us
over three hours to climb about five hundred feet, and the whole
distance covered could not have been much more than about
six hundred yards, and yet, in spite of a terrific amount of
blood, we had not come across the tiger. Our minds began to
fill with serious doubts, for it is most unusual for a badly
wounded animal to go up-hill.
Much as I wanted that big tiger, I did not feel a bit inclined
to enter that dense cover ahead. As a last resort I ordered the
shikari to fire a shot into the cover with my shotgun. Nothing
happened, so I ordered him to fire again. As still nothing

happened, I now very bravely led the way About forty yards
ahead we reached the top of the hill, and here we found that
!

FOLLOWING UP
the tiger

199

lying down just inside the further edge of the

through which we had just passed. This was the

had been

dense cover,
top of the hill from which he had roared his challenge to the
world less than twenty-four hours earlier, and here it was that
he had decided to lie and wait for us. The blood was smeared
all over the grass where he had been lying, and judging by the
way the stalks kept lifting even while we were examining the
spot, it seemed pretty evident the tiger had only just a minute
earlier moved on. A yard or two further on we found that in
moving along the crest he had suddenly toppled over sideways,
and judging by the smears of blood and the way the grass was
pressed down he had rolled down the hill into another tangled
mass of big creepers covering the steep hillside below. The shikari
now proclaimed the tiger dead, for what other explanation was
there for the way he had rolled down the hill? To me, however, it seemed that the shots fired into the cover had startled
him, and he had got up to get away, but his wound had
stiffened, and he could not make it. In his anxiety to escape
he had toppled over, and had not been able to save himself
from rolling down the hill. However, what had to be accepted
was that, right or wrong though we might have been in our
summing up of the situation, it was only right to go on assuming
now that the tiger was still alive, and to continue taking all
precautions in our further search. We thoroughly stoned the
creepers from above and eventually managed to get a man up
a tree half-way down the hillside, to try and peer into the
ravine below. He started gesticulating wildly to get me to join
him, but as I could never in my life have climbed such a tree I
sent the shikari to see what he wanted. He returned breathless
to say the tiger was sitting up in the grass across the ravine. It
was no use attempting to go through the creepers, so I decided
to work my way round the hill and stalk the tiger, whose position
had been marked down and could be pointed out by the man

in the tree.

The shikari accompanied me

carrying the shotgun.

We moved very slowly taking the greatest care not to make the
but a tiger has wonderful hearing, and when I
the
over
ridge, I found the tiger looking straight at me,
peeped
twenty
yards
away. I fired as he got up, and the bullet
only
went through his head.
I stood and gasped when I saw how big he was, and I
realized at once I had shot a tiger of no ordinary size. He
slightest noise,

CALL OF THE TIGER

20O

measured ten feet eight inches over curves, as I measured him

where he lay a truly enormous tiger, huge in every sense of the
word. He was in the pink of condition and I do believe even
the base of his tail was thicker than my forearm. My first
bullet had entered a couple of inches to the left of his spine
behind the shoulder blades, and, as the shot had been fired
downwards, had gone right through his body and entered his
right forearm. How he had managed to travel such a distance
after being so severely wounded was a mystery to us all. His
skin with mounted head now measures twelve feet six inches
and is proportionately broad. A wonderful trophy the biggest
tiger I ever shot, and the skin now is probably one of the
biggest tiger skins in England.

As a wounded tiger is considered one of the most dangerous

animals in the world, I feel I may be forgiven if I conclude this
chapter by introducing one or two points of discussion. Some
sportsmen argue that it is better to follow up at once, while
the tiger is still suffering from the shock of the bullet, and that
it is safer to do it this way than to wait and allow the tiger's

From my own experience of being wounded,

cannot agree with this. Many of us know only too
well that although it may be possible to carry on in the heat
of the moment, it is not possible to hold out against it for any
wounds
I

to stiffen.

must say

length of time. Some sportsmen also say that it is better to

follow up at once with a torch at night than to wait till the

They argue that the light immediately

following morning.
the
shining eyes. I agree that this can be done, and I
picks up
have
done it, but I do not recommend it. Much, of
myself
course, depends

of the

wound

on the power of the rifle used, and the extent

and a sportsman might decide to act at

inflicted,

once in a special

but so far as using a torch at night is

it out for several reasons. You might,
for instance, be charged by the tiger in the dark from fairly
close quarters, and you may get off your first shot, but you might

concerned,

miss.

case,

would

rule

There is no denying that

if the

torch

is

fixed to the barrel,

the jump of the rifle, when it is fired, will temporarily obscure

the target from view, and in that split second anything might
happen. Also I have known a torch fuse when a shot was fired.

Then what?
and look
may,

Besides you cannot hope to follow the blood trail

one and the same time. You

for the tiger's eyes at

therefore, blunder

on

in a

wrong

direction, or worse

still

FOLLOWING UP

2OI

you may blunder right on to the animal itself, if it is lying

facing away from you. It might be lying in a dying condition,
but it might spring up and tear you to pieces at its last gasp, a
nasty habit which these felines undoubtedly have. On one
occasion while following up a wounded panther in the dark,
my shikari stepped right on to the animal, while I was looking
for him in another direction.
Fortunately, the panther was
stone dead.
As regards using buffaloes, a herd ofjungle-grazing buffaloes
can be usefully employed to locate a wounded tiger in dense
cover. These animals often come across tigers, and the herd
bulls know how to deal with them. These buffaloes will pick
up a blood trail and follow it, and will attack the tiger if he
shows fight. Other village buffaloes and herds of ordinary
village cattle are often more dangerous to the sportsman than
to the tiger. If they smell the tiger they usually stampede, and
may run down the sportsman, or anyone else in their way.
When using buffaloes, the sportsman should keep behind the
herd with the herdsman, who is the only one who can control
them. If the tiger is alive, he will jump on to the back of a
buffalo, and the sportsman then gets his chance, which should
be taken immediately, otherwise the tiger may attack and
damage several buffaloes, and will himself be battered and torn
to pieces by the rest of the herd. In the ensuing melee it will, of
course, be quite impossible for the sportsman to use his rifle.
Even if buffaloes are
But there is one big consideration.
herdsmen
and
the
owners
available,
may be unwilling to lend
them. You cannot blame them for this. They might agree, but
will not usually do so unless you promise to
and also promise a handsome reward.
It

is

my

pay

experience that a tiger with a flesh

for all

wound

on trying to evade his pursuers, so long as he is

do so, and can seldom be induced to charge.

damage,
will

keep

possibly able to

If, however, a
limb or bones are broken, the tiger is probably unable to get
away, and in this case he will wait in ambush for his pursuers,
and will most certainly fight when they come up with him. In
following up a wounded tiger I would advise the sportsman to
use the most powerful weapon available.

CHAPTER XV

THIRTY QUESTIONS
1

Do

tigers eat

a carcass

they

happen upon? Yes, they do. I have

always hated the system of tying out a

live bait,

and have been

into this question rather thoroughly, hoping to find a means of

using a dead bait instead of a live one. Both tigers and panthers
will readily remove and eat a dead animal they happen to find

By employing the "call" of a tiger or panther, I

could attract these animals to a dead bait, and, if the
bait used was a wild animal, I found that both tigers and
panthers were less suspicious about it, and often returned to
the carcass quite early. I understand dead baits are frequently
used in Burma and Malaya, where apparently, owing to the
very dense jungles, tigers do not roam quite so extensively as
in the jungle.

found

they do in India, and are therefore more likely to come across

the bait in their more limited wanderings. In Africa dead baits
are extensively used for lions, but the lion has a good nose and
it. Live baits are used in India, because the
tiger hunts by
and
a
live
bait
attracts
his
and
attention.
hearing,
sight
uses

tiger, however, has such a poor nose, that he might pass within
a few yards of a fresh dead bait without noticing it. And
another big snag about trying to use a dead bait for tigers is the
non-availability of animals for this purpose. The shooting of
deer is restricted to a few animals only, and nothing makes a
sportsman more unpopular with the shikaris and men than to
shoot a deer or pig and leave it out in the jungle for a tiger A
live bait therefore must be regarded as a means to an end, to
save the lives of other animals in the same way as a soldier may
be used to save his country. Soldiers, however, are usually welltreated, whereas baits more often are not. I would appeal to
!

sportsmen to treat their baits well.

Do

tigers eat carrion? Shocking though it may .sound, the

the
of
Jungle loves carrion. He literally relishes maggots,
King
and will actually scoop them out of a carcass with his paws, to

2.

202

THIRTY QUESTIONS

2O$

suck them up and swallow them. But then, quite a few highly
civilized individuals love Gorgonzola cheese
!

3.

Do

tigers

and panthers

return to

kill lying

on

its left

side?

There is a widespread belief amongst shikaris that, if the kill is

lying on its left side, the killer, be it tiger or panther, will not
return. I have often found a fresh kill left completely uneaten
for no apparent reason, and, strangely enough, it has generally
been left lying on its left side. On the other hand, if the kill has
been partly eaten, I have never known the tiger or panther to
abandon it because it was left lying on its left side. I am not
superstitious

Do tigers possess a sixth sense?

Tigers, and most wild animals,

have a sense that warns them of danger. What this
sense really is, I have never been able to discover, but that it
exists I do not doubt. I have discussed it with other experienced
sportsmen, and some have suggested it is a form of telepathy.
For instance, when you first catch sight of a tiger coming on to
his kill only a few yards away, the sight of him, if he has arrived
unawares, gives you a shock. Gall it a shock of excitement, or
what you will, but it is a kind of jolt to the system, which
immediately sets your heart thumping. I have often noticed,
when this has happened, that my feelings have immediately been
transmitted to the tiger, who has at once stopped and started
looking round suspiciously, almost in the same way as you would
look round, if you suddenly felt someone was looking at you.
Whenever this happens, I at once try and switch my mind to
someone or something thousands of miles away, or I deliberately
4.

seem

to

and transmit

my thoughts to the tiger, by saying to myself,

of
course, "What a nice juicy buffalo! Just where I
inaudibly
left it too. No one has been here. Now for a jolly good feed !"
The tiger then quite often begins to look reassured, and again
advances towards the kill.
I believe hunters quite unconsciously develop this sense. I
have often felt myself being warned of hidden danger, and have
then discovered that the warning was not for nothing. It may
be the shock action, as described above, working in reverse
from animal to hunter. But quite the most remarkable of all
the warnings I ever had was in 1951, when, while listening to
try

the General Election results from the B.B.C., I suddenly

felt

2O4

CALL OF THE TIGER

myself in danger.

was

sitting in

a comfortable chair in my
up and switched on the

sitting-room in semi-darkness, so I got

and there, coming towards me was an outsize scorpion.

This was a truly remarkable warning.

light,

5.

Does a

tiger leave

a double or a single spoor?

and

When

he

is

not actually hunting, he sometimes

walking carelessly,
leaves a doubly spoor. When prowling in search of game or
stalking, however, the imprint of the hind foot is always made
exactly in the one already made by the forefoot. The remarkable thing, however, is that the legs on one side of the body
move simultaneously, or nearly so. If the tiger were a horse, he
would be called a "pacer". It is difficult to understand, therefore, how the hindfoot moves into the imprint of the forefoot,
when both feet move at the same time. I can only imagine that
it moves in at the second step. When a tiger has been moving
and leaving only a single spoor, you will find separate imprints
of the hind feet, where he has turned to left or right, or where he
has stopped totlisten. The biggest mistake artists make in

drawing

tigers

is

to

is

show the

feet

diametrically opposite,

touching the ground simultaneously.

is pointing a sure indication
This
gone?
depends on certain circumstances. In killing an animal the tiger bites through the back
of its neck just behind the ears, and then proceeds to drag the

6. Is the direction in

which a kilVs head

of the direction the tiger has

carcass into the jungle holding it in its jaws by the same place.
tiger generally drags the kill in the direction he intends to

take to

lie

up

in during the day, so that

when he

starts

feeding

at the hindquarters, the neck and head are left pointing in the
direction he had intended to take for lying up. But here is
where this indication becomes unreliable.
tiger certainly

by the neck, but when he has eaten the hindand

exposed the ribs, he will, the next time he drags,
quarters
seize the carcass by the hindmost ribs, and drag it backwards,
drags a fresh

kill

with the head pointing backwards. So where are you?

Suppose the tiger is really hungry when he kills, he might start
eating at once before he drags or he might drag only a short
way by the neck, then feed, and later drag by the ribs to get the
kill into denser cover. Still later, he might drag again to hide
the kill where better concealment exists. If a tigress with cubs is

i.e.

THIRTY QUESTIONS
the

My

2O5

killer, the cubs will almost certainly pull the carcass about.
advice is not to worry about the position of the carcass or

the direction of its head. Clues on the ground, and the general
nature of the surrounding jungles, are far more reliable pointers
to where the tiger has gone.
7. Are tiger kills useless, if left in the open? No, not always, but
generally speaking, a tiger realizes that if his kill is left exposed
it is bound to be foiuid and eaten by vultures during the day.

If the kill is a very large animal which the tiger has been
unable to drag away, such as a bison or wild buffalo, or if it has
otherwise got entangled and stuck somewhere, he will probably
hang about in the jungle near by, to try and keep the vultures

off the

and

always return after dark, just to

the other hand if he has seen
vultures descend and cannot come out into the open to drive them
away, he will abandon the kill and not return. On a rainy or
very cloudy day, he might return in the hopes that vultures
have not discovered the kill. I nearly laughed outright on one
occasion when I saw a tiger return to a kill that had been eaten
by vultures. He sat down a few yards away, and heaved a
tremendous sigh of disgust and disappointment. Unless the
hunter has something more important on hand, it is worth his
while to sit over an exposed kill, at any rate till about an hour
after darkness sets in. I am inclined to think that both tigers
and panthers cannot bear the smell left behind by vultures,
after they have been at a kill.
kill,

see if his kill

will nearly
there.

is still

On

and uninjured tiger dangerous? No, he

not dangerous, except under the following conditions:

8. Is the ordinary unhunted

is

When he is with

tigress in the mating season. Then he

and might, just for the fun of it, attack
any man or men who happen to come his way.
(b) When he has been crossed in love, particularly when he
has been defeated in a fight by a rival, and is feeling sore in
more senses of the word than one.
After he has
(c) When he is hungry, and on a fresh kill.
satisfied his hunger, however, he will usually abandon it when
men approach, unless the kill is a pig or a porcupine, in which
case he will usually demonstrate or even show fight, if the
(a)

is

inclined to

show

off,

CALL OF THE TIGER

2O6

approaching. A tiger generally regards a jungle

by himself as his own personal property, and
resents interference by man, but will normally slink away if the
kill is a domesticated animal, apparently realizing it is stolen
In this respect he is exactly the opposite to the
property.
African lion, who fights over a domesticated animal, but will
abandon a wild one when men approach.
(d) If he is suddenly startled, or taken by surprise. In case of
a chance encounter, a tiger is more inclined to give way to man
in the day-time than at night.

men persist in

animal

As

killed

for a tigress, she

is

dangerous as in

(c)

and

(d) above,

and

also:
(a) When she has small cubs, i.e., when the cubs are too
small to get out of the way to escape from humans approaching.
tigress will usually only demonstrate by roaring and growling,
but will fight if necessary to protect her cubs.
(b) When she has lost her cubs or is suffering from milk

fever.

When

(c)

NO TE.
are

more

she

It is

is

looking for a mate.

my

experience that tigers in

Madhya Pradesh

inclined to be truculent than those in other parts of

India.

9.

How

do tigers kill their prey?

The

usual methods employed

are:
After stalking a grazing animal, the tiger springs straight
back, if stationary, or chases it and then springs on to
gripping it at the back of its neck with his teeth, and at the

(a)

on
it,

to

its

same time, by placing one forepaw on its shoulder and

another round its nose, and by tripping up the animal with his
he brings the animal down with tremendous
neck. When this method is employed, the
force, cracking
will
be found twisted round, sometimes right
animal's head
round, with the nose pointing towards its tail.
(b) If the animal is a tied-up bait, the tiger will rush up to it,
and seize it by the throat. He will then pull the head downwards with a jerk, and pin it to the ground, holding it down till
it dies. In this case the neck may or may not be broken, and
the head will not be twisted round.

own hind

legs,

its

THIRTY QUESTIONS

2O7

Apart from the above two methods, a tiger may use his paw
to smash the head of a porcupine or pig. This can be done
with one stroke of the very powerful forepaw. This method is
also sometimes employed on human beings. The tiger in this
case dashes up to the man, rears up on his hind legs and
strikes down with his forepaws at the man's head.
When a
stands
like
his
reach
a
this,
up
tiger
point between
forepaws
nine and ten feet from the ground. Imagine then the plight of
an unarmed beater whose average height would be about
five feet, and weight between a hundred and a hundred and ten
pounds. Actually, the
not yet been born.

man who

could stand up to a tiger has

ham-stringing method, which is

animals
such as bison and wild buffalo.
largest
This is done, I believe, with the teeth, though I personally am
inclined to think it is done with claws and teeth. I have only
seen full-grown domesticated buffaloes killed by this method,
but my old friends Darbari and Saktu told me about a bison
Finally,

there

is

the

employed on the

injured in this way. They were attracted to the spot by the

bellowing of the bison, and found him, a big bull, lying on his
side, with about twenty pounds of flesh eaten from his hind-

He was still alive. They said a pair of tigers had overhim.

powered
Although I have never seen it, I believe one
the
attention of the intended victim, while the
tiger engages
other sneaks up from behind, to do the ham-stringing. Finally,
when the animal has been incapacitated, he may be despatched
in the ordinary way, or the tigers may feed on him while he is
quarters.

still

alive.

10. Size of tigers : This has been a controversial question for

several years. I think the best way to tackle this debatable
should
point is to leave all the old measurements alone.

Why

we

dispute them?

a well-known fact that climatic conditions have a direct effect on the size of human beings, and,
generally speaking, the Northern races are bigger than the
The Siberian and Manchurian tigers are still
Southern.
It is

reputed to go up to thirteen feet in length, and, as all tigers are

supposed to have migrated to India from there, it is possible
that tigers in India were bigger a hundred years ago than they
are now. Why should there not have been a twelve foot tiger
in India? One might argue that some of the old record heads

CALL OF THE TIGER

2O8

Markhor and Ibex were all hooey, but the horns

here to prove their previous existence, although there
is nothing to touch them now.
In my own experience of
tigers in India, I have found that the tigers from the North are
bigger than those in Madhya Pradesh, and the Indian tiger is
certainly much bigger than the Malayan. The biggest tiger I
saw shot in Madhya Pradesh measured ten feet four inches over
curves, and stood forty-four inches at the shoulder. The two
biggest tigers I ever shot myself were ten feet seven inches and
ten feet eight inches over curves, both in the Siwaliks. They
were shot in two different shooting blocks, less than 10 miles
apart, one in 1939, and the other ten years later.
I remember being greatly impressed by a pair of huge
Siberian tigers I used to go and admire in the Regent's Park
Zoo in London, when I was a boy. They had long, almost
shaggy coats and were much bigger than the Indian tigers in
the cages next to them.
I do not pay much attention to the overall length of a tiger.
Tails vary in length from about two feet six inches to about three
feet three inches. I am inclined to be more impressed by the
size of the body and its physical development. A big tiger with
a short tail, measuring over ten feet over curves is a whopper,
and anything over nine feet six inches is not to be sneered at.
big tigress measures from about eight feet five inches to about
nine feet five inches over curves. I doubt whether any Indian
tiger of to-day would stand more than forty-eight inches at the
shoulder.
Of my two biggest tigers, the skin of the second one now, with
mounted head, measures twelve feet six inches, and is proportionately broad. Unfortunately the skin of the other was
eaten by insects while in store during World War II.
Some people are not pleased unless they bag a record or near
record of the species they are after. Such people to my mind
are somewhat petty-minded. Any big male tiger is a good
trophy. It is really the fun and excitement of the chase that
of Ovis
are

Poll,

still

counts for more than the actual overall measurement from tip
of nose to tip of tail.
The standard way of measuring a tiger is to lay him on his
back on a level piece of ground. Then, after pressing the head
down, a peg is driven into the ground at the nose, and another
at the extremity of the tail. The measurement is then taken

THIRTY QUESTIONS
between the pegs. This method,
the following reasons

2Og

I think, is unsatisfactory for

(a) It is often impossible to find a level piece of ground where

the tiger is shot.
(b) If he is carried out of the jungle on a stretcher, or in a

hammock, or slung on
different shape,

and

it

poles, the

may

be

body

difficult

bound to take on a
or even impossible to

is

again for measurement between pegs.

he is then transported in a motor truck, he is
Unless
(c)
usually subjected to still more contortion in or behind an
it

straighten

ordinary car, so that,

if

measurement

is

delayed,

it

will

be

inaccurate.

measured over curves where or near where he was

is nothing more to worry about. As I do not bother
about records, this is the method I always employ. I do not
consider any extra credit is due to the hunter whose tiger tapes
a bit more than somebody else's.
If he

is

shot, there

n. Do

tigers ever indulge in wasteful killing, just for killings

sake?

A tiger generally
The

does not kill more than he requires for food.

are
the exceptions to this rule
following
:

(a) A young male tiger, full of the exuberance of youth,

anxious either to try out or show his strength.
done with the
(b) Males, while with females, during the rut
of
object
showing off.
done probably to ensure a plentiful
(c) Tigresses with cubs
of
meat
for
the
family.
supply
(d) Sometimes unintentionally, or at any rate without malice
aforethought when, having killed a cow out of a herd, some
other stupid cow dashes past or towards him, practically bringing death upon itself.

Except in the above circumstances, a

sidered a wasteful

killer.

tiger

cannot be con-

A panther,

on the other hand, does

and when the opportunity

indulge freely in wasteful killing,

offers he kills and goes on killing for

killing's sake.

any comparison between tiger and panther senses?

the
best developed sense in a tiger is his hearing,
Probably
I
should
which,
think, is about equal to a panther's. As regards
12. Is

there

CALL OP THE TIGER

210

and panthers are gifted with wonderful

Both are quick to detect any sudden movement, but the
panther is quicker at picking out a motionless object from its
surroundings. The panther also has a much more developed
sense of smell, and is capable of picking up a scent, or following a drag, which would be unnoticed by a tiger.
eyesight, both tigers
sight.

Do tigers and panthers eat grass? Yes, they do, and so do

They eat green grass in the same way that dogs do, and
vomit it back in the same way too. An old sportsman I knew,
always took green grass with him for the tigers in the Nagpur
13.

lions.

Zoo,
14.

and

What

and panthers? Lions

about 106 days, panthers about 93

are the gestation periods of tigers

tigers are the

same

days.

15.

these

Do

tigers

have individual characteristics?

individual

characteristics

certain individuals.

Most

are

often

Yes, they do,

and

very marked in

can be distinguished by some

Sometimes a tiger earns a nick-

tigers

special trait in their natures.

name from

the jungle dwellers who get to know his ways, for

a
instance,
tiger with a particularly bad temper or truculent
nature may be referred to as "Badmash" (villain) or "Shaitan"
(Satan), or one that behaves extraordinarily as "Pagla"
(Maddy), and the old respected tiger may be referred to as the

"Maharaj" (Great Monarch). Physical characteristics may

also earn nicknames, such as "Langra" (Lame one).
Amongst a variety of other characteristics, the following are
often attributable to certain individuals

Relieving Nature, just before coming on to the kill to

In such cases the unmistakable pungent odour is often
the first indication of the tiger's presence. Some tigers also
relieve themselves just after feeding. This may be done to keep
other animals away from the kill, and is generally a sure
indication that the tiger intends to return.
(b) Covering up a kill with dry leaves, scraped up with
the paws, or with long grass, actually bitten or torn up with
the teeth. These signs are also indications of intention to
(a)

feed.

return.

THIRTY QUESTIONS
(c)

Chasing and

killing vultures off

kill.

Some

tigers are

keener on doing this than others.

(d) Never returning to
fired at over a kill.
(e)

kill,

usually a tiger that has been

Always breaking back through a beat, usually a

tiger

that has been fired at in a beat.

(f)

Making

noises before approaching a

moaning.
(g) Roaring in a beat

kill, i.e.,

to frighten the beaters.

hissing or

Some

tigers

habitually do

this, while others do not.

(h) Refusing to kill a tied-up bait, or a certain type of bait.
(i) Showing nervousness, equal almost to cowardice, when
attacking a bait, which, being tethered, cannot run away.
Tigresses and some young tigers, imagining the bait is showing
fight, shy off it, especially if the bait has horns.
(j) If a man-eater, showing preference in choice of men or

women
(k)

tigers

as victims.

Returning to a

do not do

this,

kill, even after a beat in that area. Most

but certain individuals will do so.

1 6. Do
tigers ever eat salt at salt-licks? I have never actually
seen a tiger doing this, but, on one occasion, while following in
the fresh tracks of a tiger, I came across his droppings, which
were composed entirely of grey sandy mud, such as one finds at

The droppings were quite fresh and perfectly

moulded, but did not appear to be composed of any other
substance except sandy looking mud. Shikaris, who often sit
up over salt-licks for deer, aver that tigers do lick the salt at
salt-licks.

salt-licks,

and, certainly, tigers do

lie

in wait for deer in their

vicinity.

water? A tiger always indulges in a

He lies down in a quiet pool or
he
can.
daily bath,
possibly
stream to do this even in mid-winter, when it is freezingly cold.
Then, however, he just rolls in the water for about half a
minute, gets out, shakes himself, and finally rolls in the sand to
dry himself. During the hot weather, particularly in May and
June, tigers actually lie in water during the hottest hours of the
day to keep cool, and can be stalked while doing so. See also
17.

Do

tigers like lying in

if

Question 18 below.

GALL OF THE TIGER

212

1 8. Can tigers be stalked on foot? Yes, as already mentioned in

the previous paragraph, tigers can be stalked in the hot
weather, while lying up in water. At that time of year, water is
The
scarce, and the few pools that exist are known to all.
hunter should take note of the prevailing wind at the hottest

time of the day, and then have a pathway swept in advance to

enable him to approach up-wind, without making any noise
with his feet on dry leaves etc. The stalk should be made at
the hottest time of the day, when the tiger will be found lying
in the water, or in a shady spot just outside it. It is dangerous
to fire at a tiger lying down, especially if he presents a head-on
shot. The hunter should wait patiently until the tiger gets
up, which he will do sooner or later, and should then take
the

first

the tiger

tiger,

really

sound shot

down and

but

is

kill

i.e., one that will knock

an exciting way of shooting
already pointed out, can only

offered,

him. It

is

dangerous, and as

be done during the hottest hours of a hot day, in the hottest

months of the year, i.e., in April, May and June. I do not
advise anyone to try doing this with anything but a big bore
rifle.

Tigers can also be stalked on a kill. This can be done by

very quietly following up a fresh drag after a kill, or, when a
kill has been located, by stalking it at dusk or in the early dawn,
in the hopes of finding the tiger on or near the kill. In the latter
case, the kill should be pegged down and a pathway should be
carefully swept in advance, having regard to the prevailing
wind. This kind of stalking can be done at any time of the

and is also an exciting way of shooting a tiger. I repeat

of using a big bore rifle.
advice
my
One early dawn I stalked a tiger in this way. The kill was
lying in a sandy nullah. The shikari and I crept up to the
bank of the nullah and peeped over. There were no signs of the
tiger. In disgust I handed my rifle over to the shikari. As I did
so the tiger sprang out from under the bank, practically at our
feet.
Fortunately, he got as much of a shock as we did, and
bounded up the opposite bank into the jungle. I sent the

year,

away, talking at the top of his voice to an imaginary

companion, while I hid myself at the foot of a tree. Ten
minutes later the tiger returned, and I shot him.
shikari

19.

What happens when

a tiger suddenly rushes out roaring?

This

THIRTY QUESTIONS
form of demonstration
circumstances

is

HI 3

usually resorted to in tfie^followmg

(a) By a tigress with small cubs, when the cubs are with her,
and are too small to make a get-away. She then demonstrates
in this way to try and frighten men away from that locality,
but she will rarely do more than rush out roaring and growling,
and will then turn back into the jungle without attacking any-

one. In this case, if you recognize her to be a tigress, either by

her looks or by her tracks, she is best left alone. No one would

want

to shoot a tigress with small cubs.

a kill concealed in that vicinity, but

a
wild animal, and more especially if it
usually only
a
a
to
be
or
pig
porcupine. In this case, if you have
happens
men with you, you should all talk loudly, but not shout, and
pretend to be wood-cutters. Give the tiger time to calm down
and move off. Then try and find the kill. If you succeed in
doing so, hide yourself, and send the men away talking. The
tiger will usually return to the kill within half an hour, just to
see if it is still there. Jungle dwellers often annex a tiger kill for
(b)

tiger with

By any

if the kill is

themselves.

Hence

later, to find

out

the tiger's anxiety to protect his

if it

kill,

and

has been taken away.

If you cannot find the

kill,

you can,

if

time allows, arrange a

beat.

Do

Unlike African lions, tigers are not

have
seen
prides of lions of from two to a dozen
gregarious.
of large prides consisting of anything
read
and
have
individuals,
lions.
or
to
Tigers have never been known to
sixty
seventy
up
Within my own experience
in
numbers.
such
large
congregate
I have known
20.

tigers congregate?

a single sportsman in a beat.

(a) Five male tigers shot by
This occurred in the Pench Valley of the Nagpur District.
These tigers were with a tigress in season. She escaped.
in the
(b) Four tigers shot by a single sportsman in a beat
and
two
of
a
This
was
Siwaliks.
family party
Papa, Mama,
nearly full-grown cubs.
a missionary
(c) Six full-grown tigers seen together by
in
the
Raipur District.
motorist, in the jungle by the roadside

CALL OF THE TIGER

214

What effect does rain have on

tigers and panthers? 1 have never

a
or
known tiger
panther return to a kill while it was raining
heavily.
Tigers like lying in water, but apparently dislike
moving around while it is raining. Both tigers and panthers
are prone to visit their kills soon after a heavy downpour.
In dealing with cunning old tigers who do not habitually lie
up near their kills, or who do not return to kills till after midnight, I have always welcomed a rainy day. Rain seems to give
them a false sense of security. The tiger then does not expect
men to be abroad in the jungle, and often forsakes his cunning
ways. I remember an old tiger, who, time and time again,
killed my baits, but cleared off each time and never returned.
I tried in vain to catch him in a beat, and was no more successful in sitting up for him. One night it rained heavily, and the
next morning a bait was reported taken. It kept on drizzling,
and the sky was still very overcast. I decided to inspect the kill
myself.
grey monkey was swearing in a tree in the vicinity
that desultory swearing of a monkey, wearying of continued
swearing, usually a sign of a tiger lying up near at hand. I
followed up the drag very cautiously, and was only a few yards
from the kill, when a huge tiger jumped up with a roar from
under the bushes beyond. He went off growling, without giving
me the chance of a shot. For the first time this tiger had chosen
to lie up near his kill. An hour later I caught him in a beat.

21.

The

rain

22.

had been

Do

answer to

his

undoing.

for fading their food? The

not entirely.'
but
What
"Yes,
probably

vultures depend on their eyes

this is

usually happens

When

is

as follows

the carcass of a dead animal is left lying in the

not
generally discovered at once by birds, unless it
open,
has been skinned or unless the body has been mutilated or
partly eaten, and the meat or blood is showing. In fact, it will
probably be discovered first by a jackal, or, if near a village,
by a pariah dog, attracted to it by the smell.
skinned carcass, however, or one with blood and meat
showing, will immediately attract crows and pariah kites.
Their descent on to the carcass will at once be noticed by
vultures sitting on trees or hills in that vicinity, and as soon as
one vulture sets off, others will follow, until in a few minutes the
(a)

it is

THIRTY QUESTIONS

215

carcass will be covered with a seething mass of these birds,

fighting, screeching, and jostling to get a piece of meat off the
carcass, while others will be seen hurrying through the air to

join in the feast. The noise made by their wings while swooping
down out of the sky can be heard from quite a distance, and is a
signal to all carrion feeders and scavengers to race to the spot

from

all directions.

(b) If the carcass happens to be a tiger or panther kill, concealed in the jungle, it will first be discovered by birds crows,
magpies, or even common mynas. Magpies and mynas chatter,

and crows caw loudly when they make the discovery. When a
jungle crow finds a kill, he will usually perch himself on a
prominent tree-top, and give the joyful call, which sounds
something like Kowah Kowah Karr-kew Karr-kew And
:

sometimes for greater effect he will flap his wings while giving
the call. This call invariably attracts his brethren to the kill,
soon to be followed by the vultures, who also understand the
signs.

be assumed that the

by seeing crows and
kites descending on to the carcass, or by hearing a jungle crow
But that applies only to the vultures nearest to the
calling.
scene. Others miles away have seen the specks in the sky all
moving in one direction, and they have at once understood its
meaning. It is amazing how sometimes at an altitude of about
seven thousand feet, one sees vultures at about ten thousand
Therefore in the above two cases

it

vultures have been attracted to the

may

kill

heading in hasty flight for the Plains below, where, no

doubt, they have caught sight of their brethren, swooping
towards a carcass, far beyond human vision.
well concealed carcass has escaped
(c) But sometimes a very
the notice even of the crows and other birds. It is then, on the
second or third day, that you will see a vulture flying over the
area in diminishing circles, getting lower and lower, until it
eventually alights on a tree near the carcass, and starts looking
all round to try and locate it. Obviously in this case it has not
been attracted down to the kill by sight, but by smell. When the
weather is clear and warm, smells ascend upwards, and you
will notice that any vulture passing over the area will at once

feet,

start circling,

and

will eventually

come down

to the carcass as

described above.

Sometimes,

when

sitting

up over a panther

kill

in the high

GALL OF THE TIGER

2l6
hills, I

have noticed

this

happen over and over again. But in the

monsoon, when heavy rain and mists keep smells lying low, or
even force them down hill, you will never see a vulture start
circling the kill, unless he notices crows and other birds in the
vicinity. I have so often seen vultures skim quite low over a
kill

in such circumstances without noticing or discovering any-

thing.

In the North Coimbatore jungles, I was amazed to see a race

between wild dogs and humans to reach a kill, on to which the
vultures were swooping down out of the sky.
23. What is the difference between a man-eater and a man-killer? A
man-eater is one who habitually kills and eats human beings,
whereas a man-killer only kills but does not eat human flesh.
As tigers sometimes kill a man on the spur of the moment,

when suddenly

startled or frightened, or

perhaps in imaginary
be

self-defence, or in defence of their cubs, they should not

considered man-eaters or man-killers unless they repeat the

offence. If a man is unfortunate enough to be killed in this
way, the tiger, while in a frenzy, might carry him off, and
might even eat a bit of him, but, if he never does it again, he
should not be branded as a man-eater or man-killer. Repetition
of the offence is the criterion.
24.

Why

that tigers
sons:

do tigers become man-eaters? It is generally accepted

for any of the following rea-

become man-eaters

Wounds

or other physical disabilities that prevent them

to secure their normal prey. Porcupine quills
buried in the flesh are a common cause. These quills are often
found in the paws and muscles of the forearm of tigers and
panthers, and usually the quill ends inside the flesh are found
bent over like a crochet hook, which obviously made it impossible for the animals to pull them out with their teeth. The
(a)

from being able

other ends, will usually be found to have been bitten off flush
with the skin. Also tigers and panthers, in fighting each other,
inflict wounds, which may cause permanent injuries.
(b) The bad influence of a man-eating tigress, who, while in
season, entices, and passes on the bad habit to males, or, later,
passes

it

on

to her cubs.

THIRTY QUESTIONS

217

Old

(c)
age, which might incapacitate them, as also disease,
and render them incapable of catching and killing other

prey.

tigress with small cubs may become a man-eater if

(d)
driven by the pangs of hunger to secure food for herself and her

cubs.

Tigers do not usually become man-killers, unless suffering

from wounds or are crippled in some way, or suffering from
some physical defect, such as deafness, which might cause him
to blunder into a man unintentionally. A male tiger might
also vent his spleen on
to lead a solitary life.

man

if

defeated by a rival, and forced

A tigress might take to man-killing, if she

loses

is

her cubs.

25. Are there any superstitions about man-eating tigers? Yes, there
a general belief in many parts of the country that a man-

eating tiger is guided towards his next human victim by the

spirit of a human being previously killed and eaten by the tiger.

This

spirit is

Another

supposed to ride on the

belief is that

anyone who

tiger's

head.

assists in

trying to

kill

the

tiger will himself fall the next victim. This unfortunate belief
often greatly handicaps a hunter in his efforts to end the maneater's career.
still another belief, that a human corpse, partly eaten
the
by
tiger, will sit up and point out the hunter in his machan
In telling the tale
to the tiger when he returns to his kill.
some will go as far as to say they actually knew three hunters,

There is

up in a machan over a human kill, and when the tiger

the
came,
corpse sat up, and pointed with his right hand at the
men in the tree. The tiger then departed, but as the hunters

who

sat

return, one man very bravely got down from

the tree, and tied the right arm of the corpse to the body.
Later, when the tiger came again, the corpse sat up and (Damn
me!), pointed out the men with his left hand. This time the

knew he would

tiger, who was of course somewhat supernatural, sprang thirty

feet up the tree, and killed his enemies in the machan.

old friends Darbari and Saktu told

me

in various forms, has often been told, but, as

it is

My

a story, which,
a story believed

by nearly all jungle dwellers, it is perhaps worth repeating.

There was once a bania (shop-keeper), living in a village in

GALL OF THE TIGER

2l8

He wanted to visit a neighbouring village on busithe road lay through a dense forest, haunted by a
but
as
ness,
terrible man-eating tiger, he did not know what to do. Eventually he met a Sadhu (mendicant), who gave him two powders.
By eating the first, he himself would be turned into a huge
the jungle.

tiger,

capable of defeating

all

other tigers in the jungle, and, by

eating the second, he would at once become his old self again.
What could be better?
Armed with these two powders, and accompanied by his
pretty young wife, the bania started on his journey through the
forest on foot.
They had not gone far, however, when they
saw the dreaded man-eater sitting in the road. The gallant
bania, before swallowing Powder No. i told his wife to wait
where she was, so that when he returned after killing the tiger,
she could at once place Powder No. 2 in his mouth, and enable
him to resume human shape. The plan worked well up to a
point. The bania swallowed Powder No. i, and immediately
became a magnificent tiger. Roaring loudly, he bounded
towards the man-eater, and, in a trice, killed his opponent.
Then with his tail held high in triumph, and with his jaws still
dripping blood, he returned to his spouse. But the poor girl was
so terrified that she waved her arms in despair, and spilt the
precious Powder No. 2 on the ground. Her husband, quite
He pounced on his wife,
naturally, was greatly annoyed!

and in

his rage killed

and

ate her.

Thereafter,

still

being

become a bania again, this terrible

still had the brain of a man, killed and ate thousands
who
tiger,
of people, and became the most dreaded man-eater in human
enraged at not being able to

memory.
This story is only one of many supporting the belief that men
can be turned into tigers and panthers. In many parts of India,
the people believe in were-tigers, and were-panthers, and
contend that, in order to be able to prey on human beings,

some individuals have the power, and actually practice the

magic of turning themselves into these animals at night,
resuming their own human shape at dawn. People suspected of
this practice are greatly feared, and sometimes come to an
unfortunate end, but normally no one comes under suspicion
of being a were-tiger or panther, unless human
and the real culprit remains undiscovered.

kills

continue,

THIRTY QUESTIONS

2ig

Do

wild dogs attack tigers? I have never seen this

happen,
on
one
but,
occasion, when I was out on manoeuvres near
Jabalpur, I received a telegram from Darbari and Saktu inform26.

me

of a tiger kill near Lamta. I was not able to leave for

till the next
evening, and on arrival, was told the
following story
"We were out in the forest in the afternoon, along with
several other men, cutting bamboos, when we suddenly heard

ing

Lamta

riot going on in the jungle.

and kept on roaring almost without

a terrible

frightened that we ran down

borders on the village fields.

saw an amazing

sight.

tiger started roaring,

were so
ceasing.
the hill to the forest road which

We

We had just got there when we

A huge tiger galloped out of the jungle,

closely followed

by eleven wild
and up the opposite

dogs.

They raced

across the

There the tiger climbed

open fields,
on to a big rock about twenty feet high, and stood at bay, with
the dogs standing all round the rock. He kept on roaring but
the dogs held him at bay till it got dark. We wish you had
been here to shoot the tiger, as you could have done so with the
greatest of ease. Knowing full well that the dogs would break
away at nightfall, and that the tiger, being thirsty after his
exertions, would make straight for water, we tied a bait for
him there, and he killed it. Next morning we sent you a telehill.

gram, but you did not come, so we let the tiger feed peacefully,
and the next day gave him another bait. Now the tiger is lying
up near the kill. He will surely return this evening."
between a leopard and a panther? For
has
raged on this subject. While we
many years controversy
are all entitled to hold our own views, and many old sportsmen
still do so, the "Experts" seem to have agreed that there is no
difference. Both are one and the same animal, call it leopard or
panther or what you will In Africa one never uses the word
panther, and, after spending a year big game shooting in Kenya,
I found myself always saying leopard instead of panther, much
to the annoyance of some sportsmen in India who held the

What

27.

is the difference

opposite view, and still insisted that leopards and panthers were
by no means the same animal. Let us compromise by saying that
there are two or more different kinds of leopards or panthers in

India

have never been worried about the main difference

myself, but quite often have

had the old question

fired at

me,

CALL OF THE TIGER

22O

it seems to me that the general idea has been that panthers

are larger and have more rosettes than spots, and leopards are
smaller and have more spots than rosettes. But in all the many

and

leopards or panthers I have shot in India, it seems to me,

though I might still be wrong, that every leopard or panther
has a preponderance of spots on the head, neck, and front part
of the shoulders, and the rest of the body has more rosettes than

There are many variations in

size and colour, and

that
the
though
generally agreed
jungle panther is much
and
in
darker
I
must
colour,
bigger
say I have shot many
this
or
to
rule.
Panthers
exceptions
leopards of the Plains are

spots.

it is

usually lighter coloured animals, but that rule applies to other

animals as well, and certainly does so to

have particularly marked

of
the Himalayas are usually
panthers
localities

Certain

tigers.

While

characteristics.

light coloured animals,

those of the Nilgiris are generally rather dark. And then, of
course, there is the black panther, which is very occasionally
found in the North, but is much more common in the South of

India.

What

is the "Lucky Bone"? This is a very thin detached

a
few inches long, known as the "Clavicle Bone",
bone, only
which is found embedded in the flesh between the foreshoulder and neck of tigers and panthers. When the skin of the
animal has been removed, this little bone can be extracted by
cutting deep into the flesh in front of the shoulder. Occasionally
one sees one mounted in gold as a scarf-pin or lady's brooch,

28.

from bringing the wearer "Good Luck" its outward

appearance is of doubtful beauty Jungle men say it is this little
bone that prevents tigers and panthers from climbing trees
with the same dexterity as their Aunt, the Jungle Cat Tigers
seldom climb trees, though they can do so, and the Indian
but, apart

leopard

is

not nearly so arboreal as his African brother.

29. Is it advisable to use a heavy rifle for big game? There are
two schools of thought: (a) that a light rifle is just as effective,
and (b) that a heavy rifle is indispensable. The advocates of

both schools are so certain that they themselves are right that
quite useless trying to convince either of them against their
will.
To cut out all argument on the merits or de-merits of
either I can only say that I consider the heavy rifle more

it is

THIRTY QUESTIONS

221

humane

for really big animals, and for dangerous animals like

look upon it as a form of insurance. When one argues
that a well-placed shot from a lighter rifle would be just as
effective, it must be remembered that well-placed shots are not
always possible, and there is no gainsaying that when a
dangerous animal is wounded with a light rifle he becomes even
tigers I

more dangerous, simply because the light rifle is incapable of

hurting him as much as the heavy, and the less incapacitated
he is the more he will fight.
experience that when hit by a heavy bullet from a
really powerful rifle, no animal, whatever his size, will turn or
wait to ask for more, provided, of course, that it is a body shot,
and not one that has just grazed or nicked him, whereas he
It is

my

you if you tickle him up with a light "PopAnimals

size
you up by the weight of your punch. If
gun".
a
hit
animal
you
dangerous
good and hard, he will not want to
his
but
will
do
best
to
fight,
escape. You have him beat. With
the light rifle it is just the opposite. He thinks he can beat you,
and will have a darned good try to prove it.
certainly will go for

30. When a tiger is killed is his place soon taken by another in the
same jungle? Yes, almost invariably so. Tigers normally are
very conservative about sticking to their own beats, and very
seldom poach on each other's preserves. There seems to be a

complete understanding between neighbours on this subject.

There is no human way of accounting for the way in which
these territorial claims are established, or how, in fact, the
limits or boundaries are fixed, but there is no denying that
they do actually exist, and are most jealously guarded by all
concerned. Tigers continually check up on each other, and
when a tiger is noticeably absent from his established beat for
more than a few days, another tiger will move in to take his
place.
I

have often wondered how

this

unwritten law works in the

case of tiger families. When cubs grow up they must perforce

leave the jungles they were reared in. Strangely enough there

does seem to be some law of succession because it is very

noticeable that when a tiger dies his place is taken by a tiger
and not by a tigress, and the same law applies to tigresses in the
jungles that fall vacant. Certain jungles always hold males, and
others always hold females, while some seem to be set aside as

222

CALL OF THE TIGER

maternity wards and nurseries, and a male tiger will not

few other jungles seem to be

intentionally enter these.
regarded as common property to both sexes, and males or
females may be found from time to time. I have kept a note of
these things over a period of several years, and although I have
not been able to unravel these mysteries of tiger law, I am quite
sure that there is this law, and that the law is almost invariably
obeyed by all. Let us hope that there always will be a tiger to
replace the one departed, and that the jungles will resound for
years to come to that most wonderful of all sounds The Call of
a Tiger,

To
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