ward through the labyrinths of the
jungle. In the howdah we carry ample supplies of vesuvians. We light
and drop these as they blaze into the dried grass and withered leaves
as we move along, and soon a mighty wall of roaring flame behind us,
attests the presence of the destroying element. We go diagonally up
wind, and the flames and smoke thus surge and roar and curl and roll,
in dense blinding volumes, to the rear and leeward of our line. The
roaring of the flames sounds like the maddened surf of an angry sea,
dashing in thunder against an iron-bound coast. The leaping flames
mount up in fiery columns, illuminating the fleecy clouds of smoke
with an unearthly glare. The noise is deafening; at times some of the
elephants get quite nervous at the fierce roar of the flames behind,
and try to bolt across country. The fire serves two good purposes. It
burns up the old withered grass, making room for the fresh succulent
sprouts to spring, and it keeps all the game in front of the line,
driving the animals before us, as they are afraid to break back and
face the roaring-wall of flame. A seething, surging sea of flame,
several miles long, encircling the whole country in its fiery belt,
sweeping along at night with the roar of a storm-tossed sea; the
flames flickering, swelling, and leaping up in the dark night, the
fiery particles rushing along amid clouds of lurid smoke, and the
glare of the serpent-like line reddening the horizon, is one of those
magnificent spectacles that can only be witnessed at rare intervals
among the experiences of a sojourn in India. Words fail to depict its
grandeur, and the utmost skill of Dore could not render on canvas, the
weird, unearthly magnificence of a jungle fire, at the culmination of
its force and fury.

In beating, the elephants are several yards apart, and, standing in
the howdah, you can see the slightest motion of the grass before you,
unless indeed it be virgin jungle, quite untrodden, and perhaps higher
than your elephant; in such high dense cover, tigers will sometimes
lie up and allow you to go clean past them. In such a case you must
fire the jungle, and allow the blaze to beat for you. It is common for
young, over eager sportsmen, to fire at moving jungle, trusting to a
lucky chance for hitting the moving animal; this is useless waste of
powder; they fail to realize the great length of the swaying grass,
and invariably shoot over the game; the animal hears the crashing of
the