the dog, held him fast by the collar.  The tiger lay down in the grass, and was presently followed by another tiger, which lay down in front of the first and rolled over on its back.  This was pretty well for a beginning, but presently, one after the other, emerged three smaller tigers, which also took their seats in the grass.  Here then was a nice family to have between one and one’s dinner.  The sun presently set, and the prospect of darkness was not encouraging.  My friend naturally waited for the tigers to go, and no doubt devoutly hoped that they would not come his way, but time seemed to them to be of no importance, and they showed not the slightest disposition to move.  Presently there came on to the ridge of the hill above a jackal, which looked down upon the party and then set up a most unearthly howl.  The three smaller tigers, evidently young and inexperienced animals, took no notice of the protestations of the jackal, but the two larger tigers at once got up and took a long steady look at him, and the jackal moved restlessly about and seemed to redouble his efforts to attract the attention of the tigers.  The larger tigers now seemed satisfied that some danger was at hand, and to the immense relief of my friend, walked down into the jungle, followed by the three smaller tigers.  After waiting a little my friend got up and proceeded homewards, and, he said, “I am not ashamed to own that, after passing the place where the tigers had disappeared from view, I fairly ran for the house.”  The most interesting experiences one hears of tigers and other wild animals are, as may be supposed, not from sportsmen engaged on shooting expeditions, and who have killed much game, but from pioneer planters and others whose business lies in tigerish localities, and that is why Mr. Sanderson’s book is so particularly interesting.  My friend told me when I last met him that he had only killed two tigers, but that he had had occasionally some unexpected interviews with them.  One of these was interesting as showing that a tiger does not like the rearing of a horse.  My friend was riding across the country one morning when he came suddenly, at the edge of a shola, on a tiger, which at once crouched as if to spring.  The horse, an Australian, wished to turn, but my friend, being afraid that the tiger might then spring on him, turned his horse’s head towards the tiger and touched him with the spur.  This caused the horse to rear, and the moment he did so the tiger turned tail and ran off.  We have seen that man does not relish the roar of a tiger, and it may be interesting to record one instance where a single tiger was commoved and put to flight by the yell of a single man.  He was a planter on the Nilgiris, and the brother of a friend of mine, and was in the habit of going out at the end of his day’s work with a book and a gun, and seating himself on the hillside to look out for sambur deer.  On one occasion he was thus sitting in the long grass when he heard something coming through it.  This turned