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Our Shikar the bison we were following cut deep and clean as a Elephants j^fe ^ fa dark-red clay.
On the head elephant rode the Prince, Nil Canterau and Colonel Locke; behind us came Daddy, Bordie and Captain Fremlin on a dear old cow with kind, tired eyes and hollow cheeks, like those of an old, old woman. Cows only are safe to use for hunting in elephant country, for the wild male is a chivalrous knight — he will attack the tame tusker but never the cow. Bringing up our rear came a baby elephant, half grown, the cutest thing you ever saw, his load the commissary department, bristling with baskets and bright brass cans.
All of them fed as they came along, their trunks feeling along the path ahead for young bamboo shoots and succulent grasses and curling around them. The grasses came up by the roots and the swishing and slapping of these grasses, as they shook them this way and that to free the roots of soil before they daintily tucked them up into their mouths, was like the slapping of wet sheets blown in the wind. Slap, slap, munch, munch, tramp, tramp, while we on top ducked the overhanging branches or broke them away. So for four hours. Animals We saw a beautiful squirrel, with a body as big as we see a bac|ger ancl a tail like a fox, flying through the branches overhead. Daddy saw a grey, black-faced langoor, with a tail (he swears) six feet long. Bordie
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[facing HEAD TRACKER FOR THE PRINCE^ SHIKAR. ALMOST BLIND HE TRACKS BY SCENT