A near neighbour of mine—­at least he lived ten miles off—–­was much annoyed by tigers which, from the continuous nature of his large block of evergreen forest land, he could only get at by sitting over a bait.  On one occasion he had tied out a bullock, in a piece of land of a few acres which he had cleared in the middle of the forest, and concealed himself on a tree.  It was during the day, and the ground was covered with dried leaves which are so brittle in the hot weather that even the scratching, or walking of a bird can be heard some way off.  Presently a large tiger—­my friend knew that he was about—­made his appearance and commenced a stalk so elaborate and careful that my friend declared it would have been worth 1,000 rupees to a young sportsman to have witnessed it.  He put every paw down so carefully, gradually crushing the leaves under it, that my friend, though quite close to the tiger, could not hear a sound.  Between the tiger and the bullock was the butt, about four feet high, of a felled tree, with long projecting surface roots, and this saved the tiger much trouble, for he got on to one of the roots, and carefully balanced himself on it, and so without noise was able to walk quickly along till he came to the butt which he seemed to wind round like a snake, and he then got on to a corresponding root on the other side, and walked along that.  In short, he approached so gradually and noiselessly, and his colour against the brown dry leaves was so invisible, that he got quite close to the bullock before it perceived him.  The moment it did so it charged, but the tiger, avoiding the horns, swung round the back of the bullock, and then sat up and put both its paws on its neck evidently to drag it down, but it then perceived that the animal was tied, and at once turned and sprang into the forest with such rapidity that my friend did not fire.  He however sat patiently on, and after a considerable time the tiger reappeared, went through the whole stalking performance as carefully and exactly as before, and was seen and charged by the bullock as before.  But this time the tiger was in earnest and seized the bullock.  There was a struggle, the rope broke, and the bullock dropped dead, and then the tiger stood for a few seconds, a magnificent figure in the bright sunlight, looking all round as it were for signs of danger.  Whether the tiger saw or smelt my friend is uncertain, but it suddenly lay down behind the bullock, interposing the carcase between itself and my friend, and resting its head on the body.  As it is always more or less precarious to fire at the head of an animal where it may suddenly move my friend waited to get a body shot, but as the tiger had evidently no intention of moving he fired at the head and the tiger was apparently shot dead on the spot.  But my friend, who was an experienced sportsman, waited a little, and in the end thought it safe to fire another shot before going up to the tiger.  He did so, when the tiger sprang up and went off into the forest at full speed, and fell and died at some little distance away.  The first bullet had struck the tiger below the eye, but had been deflected, and was found lodged in the jaw.  My friend thinks that it would have proved fatal to the tiger, but that is doubtful, as tigers make such wonderful recoveries from wounds.