but I said, “I suppose I had better take a shot at it,” and did so, and, when the smoke cleared away, found that the tiger had removed.  Then a native went forward and gently parted the reeds with his hands, and showed me the tigress—­which had moved about twenty yards—­on her side, and evidently in a dying condition.  She was now only a few yards from me, and I fired at her, and she rolled over and died.  As it happened, I do not think that I ran much risk, but one never can exactly tell how much vitality a dying tiger has, and in the case previously alluded to I have no doubt that the tiger must have died immediately after he made his fatal attack on the party.

It is owing obviously to their great power of concealment that tigers are so very rarely ever seen by accident, and Mr. Sanderson says that during some years of wandering in tigerish localities he has only come upon them accidentally about half a dozen times, and my own experience, and that of other sportsmen to whom I have spoken, quite confirms this.  But I am persuaded that a native can see a tiger much more readily than a European, and the former have, I think, much better distinguishing power.  For instance, a European has great difficulty in seeing a green pigeon in a green tree till the bird moves, while a native seems to have no such difficulty.  My own sight is, or rather was, very good, but I found on one occasion, when I was stalked by a tiger, that it was most provokingly defective as compared with that of a native.  The incident occurred in this way.  In cloudy weather, during a break in the monsoon, I was beating a ravine for game, and had sent my second gun-carrier with the beaters.  As the beat was drawing to a close, I heard a sambur deer belling at the head of a ravine, about a few hundred yards from the termination of the jungle we were beating.  As I thought I might get a shot at it, I went across the grassland in the direction of the sound, and up to within about ten yards of the edge of the jungle, the fringe of which at that point projected a little.  I could see nothing, but as the people were coming my way in any case, I remained where I was.  The first person to arrive was a very plucky Hindoo peasant—­a keen sportsman and splendid stalker—­and when he almost touched me he at once pointed and said “There is a tiger.”  I put my rifle to my shoulder, and said to him “Where?” “There,” he said, and as he put his hand on my shoulder I could feel it trembling with excitement.  Alas, I could not make out the tiger; but, after all, that was not so very wonderful, as the day was dark, and the underwood fringe rather thick, but the tiger actually managed to back gradually away without my being able to see him.  He had evidently been stalking the sambur, which had uttered the note of alarm I had heard, and no doubt seeing that there was something at the edge of the jungle, had crawled to the edge, and there lain down within ten or twelve yards of me.