un filtering through the trees, cast checkered
lights upon the lilies and weeds that floated on the water. Little
islands dotted the surface, covered with rushes and date palms, the wild
plum, and the _babul_--all growing thickly together. The air was full of
the odour of decaying vegetation and the noise of jungle fowl, teal, and
duck. The latter could be seen fluttering their pinions among the lotus
flowers, and bobbing about on the surface of the water, thoroughly at
home in their native element; occasionally a flock would rise and settle
again not far from the same spot, vigilant with the instinct of
approaching danger. In the far distance, Panipara village could be seen,
its dark, thatched roofs seeming to fringe the _jhil_ at its farther
verge.

Honor filled the breach of her light gun with a couple of No. 8
cartridges, and warily skirted the brink. In places the pools were so
shallow that a man might have waded knee deep from island to island; but
the soft mud was treacherous, and flat-bottomed canoes were generally
hired at Panipara by sportsmen who went duck-shooting. As Honor was
after snipe, she kept to the banks and picked her way fearlessly along
the tangled paths, her high boots a protection from thorns and snakes.

Birds sang lustily in the trees; the throaty trill of the tufted bulbul
sounding inexpressibly sweet,--the thyial, too, like a glorified canary,
made music for her by the way.

For nearly an hour Honor wandered over the marshy ground of both banks,
often imagining she heard footsteps and rustlings among the long grass
that screened the view. The sounds ceased when she paused to listen, so
she concluded that her imagination had played her false. At length, just
as she was beginning to despair of success, a couple of snipe rose like
a flash from almost under her feet, and were gone before she could raise
her gun to her shoulder. Immediately she was startled by the sound of a
shot fired somewhere in her neighbourhood! She had no idea that any one
else was out shooting that morning. She looked around. Beyond a thin
veil of smoke hanging over the water, there was nothing to be seen.

Who could it be, but a native _shikari_?--for there were a few in the
District licensed to carry firearms, who supplied the residents of the
Station with birds for their tables. Satisfied with her theory, she
pressed on a little farther and was rewarded by another chance at a
snipe. As the bird headed for a clump of