He rouses himself and yawns,
stretches himself like the great cruel cat he is, and then crawls and
creeps silently along, by swampy watercourses, and through devious
labyrinths known to himself alone. He hangs on the outskirts of the
herd, prowling along and watching every motion of the returning
cattle. He makes his selection, and with infinite cunning and patience
contrives to separate it from the rest. He waits for a favourable
moment, when, with a roar that sends the alarmed companions of the
unfortunate victim scampering together to the front, he springs on his
unhappy prey, deprives it of all power of resistance with one
tremendous stroke, and bears it away to feast at his leisure on the
warm and quivering carcase.

He generally kills as the shades of evening are falling, and seldom
ventures on a foraging expedition by day. After nightfall it is
dangerous to be abroad in the jungles. It is then that dramas are
acted of thrilling interest, and unimaginable sensation scenes take
place. Some of the old shekarries and field-watchers frequently dig
shallow pits, in which they take their stand. Their eye is on the
level of the ground, and any object standing out in relief against the
sky line can be readily detected. If they could relate their
experiences, what absorbing narratives they could write. They see the
tiger spring upon his terror-stricken prey, the mother and her hungry
cubs prowling about for a victim, or two fierce tigers battling for
the favours of some sleek, striped, remorseless, bloodthirsty
forest-fiend. In pursuit of their quarry, they steal noiselessly
along, and love to make their spring unawares. They generally select
some weaker member of a herd, and are chary of attacking a strong
big-boned, horned animal. They sometimes 'catch a Tartar,' and
instances are known of a buffalo not only withstanding the attack of a
tiger successfully, but actually gaining the victory over his more
active assailant, whose life has paid the penalty of his rashness.

Old G. told me, he had come across the bodies of a wild boar and an
old tiger, lying dead together near Burgamma. The boar was fearfully
mauled, but the clean-cut gaping gashes in the striped hide of the
tiger, told how fearfully and gallantly he had battled for his life.

In emerging from the jungle at night, they generally select the same
path or spot, and approach the edge of the cover with great caution.
They will follow the same track for days toge