out into the open as the beaters approached, then roared at them and afterwards retreated into the jungle—­a narrow ravine in which he seemed determined to remain, though shots were fired into it, and in which I think he would have remained had not the beaters charged into it in a body in the most plucky manner.  A friend of mine also met with a similar instance, where a tiger came out—­confronted the beaters and roared at them.  The beaters may see the tiger, and quite close, and yet not be much disturbed, but a roar even a good way off has on them a disturbing effect, though it is difficult to see why the nerves should be affected more easily through the medium of the ears than the eyes.  I may here mention that, when the sportsman has a damaged heart, the roar of a wounded tiger, at least if the shooter is on foot in the jungle, is apt to produce a slight flutter of that organ, though that, too, like the effect alluded to by Colonel Peyton, is momentary.  Having had for some years a rather damaged heart, I was interested in experimenting as regards the effects of tigers on its action, but could come to no very distinct conclusion.  I was once in an extremely insecure position on a conspicuous cleft of a bare tree, with my feet not more than seven or eight feet from the ground, when the tiger galloped into the arena as it were in the most sudden manner, and passed within fifteen feet of me.  I knocked him over with a ball in the back at the second shot—­the first, from the awkward position I was placed in, having either missed, or done him little harm.  The tiger then lay on his side, with his head turned backwards and resting on his shoulder.  He kept his eye on me, and I kept mine on him, and I did not fire again, as my second gun native (we had never expected the tiger to be where we found him, and were on our way home) had seated himself on another tree.  In a low tone he said to me “Load, load!” but the moment I took my eye off the tiger to do so he began to wriggle into the jungle, and I only got a snap shot at his hind leg.  Now when the tiger roared, which he did as he approached me, and he lay watching me, I felt no sensation of the heart, though I felt a distinct flutter when loading and when the tiger was wriggling away.  On the following day, however, I felt my heart to be rather the worse, but I attributed this to exposure to the sun.  On another occasion, which occurred shortly afterwards, I shot a tigress so close that I could have touched her with a spear, and she was on rather higher ground than myself, but on this occasion neither when I fired, nor when she fell, and turned her head to me and showed me all her teeth, did I experience any heart effect whatever.  I must say, though, that I had my attention strongly turned to the necessity of not allowing myself to be excited, in case it should be bad for my heart, and the power of the will must no doubt have much effect in controlling the action of the heart.  Anyone who has anything the matter with his heart should take