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Tiger! anything. When suddenly there was a signal from the party ahead. 'TIGER!' And the Prince's gun went off with a shattering bang.
We all stood up in our howdahs (the elephants never turned a hair) and some of us saw one tiger, some saw two. I never saw either of them. I didn't know whether the tiger was wounded, whether he was right over there, lurking in the grass ready to spring, or what. The grass all about was lain on and trampled. And just then a huge herd of bison broke cover, but some distance away, too far for a photo. (I always seemed to have the wrong lens on my camera, anyway, worse luck!) Our elephants weren't the least excited by all this. Why not? Were we not in the slightest danger, then, that they might stampede? I asked Nil Canterau about it. He said a tiger had only to rumble out a growl and rap the ground wTith his tail to make a whole herd of wild elephants stampede. What about ours, then? They were trained hunting elephants. But Nil Canterau laughed his hard, gusty laugh, as he said it was probably just as well the Prince had missed, for we could well imagine what it would be like to be bolted with through that jungle. So I gathered that a wounded tiger is nothing to sneeze at, even with elephants trained to hunt.
Minor The next day was a wash-out. I had colic and Daddy
Ailments jia(j a sore foot from walking about these infected
floors barefoot. We stayed at home and nursed our
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