nd to admit also that tiger-hunting is not quite all it is
cracked up to be. In my fancy I had pictured the gallant and
bloodthirsty beast rushing out upon us full pelt from some grass-grown
nullah at the first sniff of our presence, and fiercely attacking both
men and elephants. Instead of that, I will confess the whole truth:
frightened as at least one of us was of the tiger, the tiger was still
more desperately frightened of his human assailants. I could see clearly
that, so far from rushing out of his own accord to attack us, his one
desire was to be let alone. He was horribly afraid; he skulked in the
jungle like a wary old fox in a trusty spinney. There was no nullah
(whatever a nullah may be), there was only a waste of dusty cane-brake.
We encircled the tall grass patch where he lurked, forming a big round
with a ring-fence of elephants. The beaters on foot, advancing, half
naked, with a caution with which I could fully sympathise, endeavoured
by loud shouts and gesticulations to rouse the royal beast to a sense of
his position. Not a bit of it: the royal beast declined to be drawn; he
preferred retirement. The Maharajah, whose elephant was stationed next
to mine, even apologised for the resolute cowardice with which he clung
to his ignoble lurking-place.

The beaters drew in: the elephants, raising their trunks in air and
sniffing suspicion, moved slowly inward. We had girt him round now with
a perfect ring, through which he could not possibly break without
attacking somebody. The Maharajah kept a fixed eye on my personal
safety. But still the royal animal crouched and skulked, and still the
black beaters shrieked, howled, and gesticulated. At last, among the
tall perpendicular lights and shadows of the big grasses and bamboos, I
seemed to see something move--something striped like the stems, yet
passing slowly, slowly, slowly between them. It moved in a stealthy
undulating line. No one could believe till he saw it how the bright
flame-coloured bands of vivid orange-yellow on the monster's flanks, and
the interspersed black stripes, could fade away and harmonise, in their
native surroundings, with the lights and shades of the upright jungle.
It was a marvel of mimicry. 'Look there!' I cried to the Maharajah,
pointing one eager hand. 'What is that thing there, moving?'

He stared where I pointed. 'By Jove,' he cried, raising his rifle with a
sportsman's quickness, 'you have spotted him first! The tiger!'

The t