ONE of the best and best-known sportsmen in India has said emphatically, "After elephant-shooting, there is perhaps no sport with the rifle to be compared to bisonstalking." Owing to the very proper Government restrictions as to elephant-shooting, which protect that most noble and useful animal from extermination, I have had little experience of its chase; but though I cannot pretend to thorough knowledge of the sport, I have had several opportunities of following the Indian bison, and doing battle with him in his forest strongholds. May I recount the experiences of a short trip to one of the jungles of Southern India, and invite the reader to accompany me while I retrace the tedious journey from the Indian station, tread again the forest paths beneath the whispering bamboos, under the guidance of the wild shikarri, and meet the noble herd in the silent recesses of the wood. Before going further, let me say a word in description of the Indian bison, as no live representative has ever been brought to Europe, and lest the reader should, as many people have done, confound him with the American bison (Bison americanus), or the true bison of Europe (Bison urus or Aurochs). These two have fifteen and fourteen pairs of ribs respectively. They belong to the same subfamily, Cattle (Bovine), but are members of the Bisontine group; while the animal known as the Indian bison belongs to the Taurine group, has thirteen pairs of ribs, and is more nearly allied to the old wild cattle of England, whose last descendants are still found in Lord Tankerville's park at Chillingham, and under the old trees at Hamilton Palace. The Indian bison, or more properly gaur, is the most magnificent in appearance of all his family. He is an inhabitant of all the large forests of India, from near Cape Comorin to the foot of the Himalayas. The height of a good bull at the shoulder is six feet or more, and his length, including tail, nearly twelve feet. His chest is broad, with deep and powerful shoulders; his neck, which is sunk between the head and the back, short, thick, and heavy. The hind quarters are lower than the fore, and fall suddenly from the ridge of the back. He has short, stronglyjointed legs, with arms exceedingly strong and muscular. He carries his massive, full - muzzled head nobly, with the muzzle rather thrust forward, and his peculiar eye, with pale slaty - blue pupil, gives him a somewhat grave and serious expression. The whole forehead is covered with hair of a greyish colour, which darkens into brown or black on the rest of his body, while his legs are white. He has hardly any hair behind the shoulders, and the quarters are generally quite bare. He carries grand horns, which are smooth and polished, though in old individuals they are broken at the tips, and rough with rings at the base. fell. The huge head lowered The gaur is one of the most wary of animals. He ordinarily wan- threateningly over him, and the ders in the hills, but in boisterous massive horns ploughed the earth weather, and when bothered by a first on one side and then on species of gnat, he descends to the the other. Fortunately they themlower country. Gaur are generally selves kept away the crushing found in small herds of from six force of the shaggy forehead, and to twelve, but occasionally larger their wide sweep and incurved numbers are congregated. There is points made the attack harmless. seldom more than one bull with the The victim had the presence of herd, but these herd bulls are by mind to avoid each savage dig, and no means the great object of the to kick the bison on the muzzle hunter's ambition. The old solitary with his nailed boots in return. bull, who disdains to join the com- Most fortunately, the great beast mon crowd, and who roams the took the hint and made off, leaving forest in sulky majesty, is the the sportsman to gather himself treasure which is most keenly together and congratulate himself sought for, and whose chase gives on his escape, "quitte pour la peur." the greatest perfection of sport. But this danger is a most unusual occurrence, and generally the courage which makes a wounded bison turn to attack his pursuer signs his own death-warrant, as it gives an opportunity for a finishing shot. The bison is naturally courageous, and has the credit of being sometimes fierce and dangerous. He does not generally commence hostilities, though natives will tell many tales of bulls charging the traveller unexpectedly from behind. cover, and many forest men will refuse to act as guides in the parts of the jungle which they frequent. There is no doubt that he must be approached with care if he is wounded, and, even in the most recent days, narrow escapes have been recorded in his chase. In the Indian papers a few years ago were told the experiences of a wellknown soldier and sportsman, who was shooting in the Mysore jungles, and wounded a bull. Unfortunately he moved forward, and the bison caught sight of him before he had reloaded. He was in the act of slipping fresh cartridges into his rifle, when the bull turned and showed fight. The breech action of the rifle became jammed for a moment, when the enemy charged. No shot could be given to stop the onslaught, and the bison pursued the sportsman round and round a bamboo clump till he tripped and I had been quartered for some months at the pleasantest cantonment in Southern India before I was able to spare ten days for a short campaign in the jungle, and to try to realise the dreams of biggame shooting which had been excited by the vivid writings of great Nimrods, and the graphic descriptions of sporting adventure which old Anglo-Indians pour fourth in such profusion. I had heard of a State forest, about 150 miles distant, which had not lately been visited, and which was said to hold bison, tiger, sambur, chitul, and other game in most promising quantity and variety. An appeal to the Resident procured me the necessary permission from the native authorities to shoot in the district, to get all assistance from the officials, and to get necessary supplies of food for master and servants from the headmen of the villages. A week previous to my own departure, I despatched a bullock-cart, containing tent, rifles, and stores of food and drink not to be found in the wilds, under the charge of a native cook. And here let me explain that even for a very short trip it is necessary to take a most voluminous assortment of articles, for nothing can be reckoned on as supplied by the country beyond eggs and chickens, and possibly a sheep; and that, moreover, if delay happens through illness or accident, communication is tedious and uncertain, and all necessaries in food, medicine, &c., which are not found in the original cartload of stores, may be regretted, but cannot be procured, or substitutes found. Two country bullocks drew the cart, and would cover about twenty miles a-day, so that about a week would find them at my shooting ground. The battery which was sent consisted of a double-barrelled 12-bore rifle, carrying a 11⁄2-oz. bullet and 6 drams of powder, a .450 express rifle, and a pair of shot guns. This was by no means a perfect equipment, as a heavier rifle than a 12bore has many advantages in biggame shooting; but it was a very fair one, and the question of calibres is still vexed and uncertain. It was late in the year-too late as many authorities think-(early in December) when I started. The jungle herbage would be grown so dense and high as to make stalking difficult, but there was the advantage of cool weather for travelling, and as the season had been wet and windy, there was a greater probability that the bison would have sheltered themselves in approachable valleys, instead of burying themselves in the distant recesses of the hills. My travel ling carriage was what is called transit-cart-a sort of small a covered van on two wheels, with a perch in front, on which the driver and my native servant sat. Inside there are two cross benches as seats, but for long night journeys boards are laid over these seats, with a mattress upon them, forming, with plaids and rugs, a fairly comfortable bed. If we add nets slung on the roof to carry small light articles, ample space under the seats for portmanteau and luncheon-basket, and a supply of books and tobacco to while away the time, a transit-cart is by no means to be despised by the traveller who is proof against a considerable amount of jolting, and is prepared for an occasional breakdown or upset. Two of the famous trotting bullocks of Mysore drew my conveyance, and covered on an average four miles an hour. They were changed every seven or eight miles, by giving due notice to the native authorities, who warn the villages along the road that bullocks will be wanted, and who are bound to supply the requirements of travellers at a fixed tariff. My start was made late in the evening, and by one o'clock the following day I had covered sixtyone miles. Here we halted for a couple of hours to let the men cook their rice, and to take advantage of a convenient travellers' bungalow for a bath and some food. The quaint old Indian village spread itself on the borders of a wide tank, surrounded by paddy fields and sugar-cane, and girt about with the stout clay walls and turrets which, in the old marauding days, gave shelter to the timid and unwarlike from the threatening clouds of Mahratta spearmen. All the country showed marks of the dire famine of 1879, in lands which still bore the traces of previous cultivation, and deserted mud huts, whose remains were almost indistinguishable in the brown soil; but it was cheering to see prosperity reasserting itself, and acre by acre the old farms being brought to yield their supply of raggi, coolthi, and paddy. However, my driver reports himself again ready for a start, and on we travel without delay till nine the following morning, when we find ourselves 131 miles from the station. Another halt at a bungalow, and again the welcome bath and tea dear to the Anglo-Indian. The deputycollector is here on an official visit. Two useful-looking horses are picketed in the compound; a weatherbeaten dog-cart and a bullock-cart repose, with their shafts in the air, in a corner. The bullocks are contentedly chewing the cud in the shade, a saddle is in the verandah, two dignified peons and some native servants hover about, and the deputy-collector himself, who has ridden thirty miles since daybreak, dashes out in shirt and pyjamas, armed with a pen, and welcomes the chance European visitor to his apartment, whose most noticeable furniture is a large official desk, a gun-case, and a teapot with a broken spout. This genial administrator places himself and his district at my disposal: tells me of two tigers within eight miles, which he has hitherto failed to account for, expatiates on the antelope country twelve miles off, to which he will personally conduct me, throws in wild statements of unnumbered duck and snipe among which I may disport myself, if I will only remain with him for a time, and shows all the hospitality which, once the characteristic of Anglo-Indians, is now, alas! becoming a thing of the past. Time presses, however, I scent the great battle with the bison from afar, and I can only consign myself again to my transit-cart, receiving much advice and information, and bequeathing the last delicious new novel that has arrived from England, which is a rare treat to the hard-worked district official. Two or three indifferent pairs of bullocks in succession and a bad cross-road make the end of my journey slow in the extreme. But the road winds through scrub jungle, and is overshadowed by wild jungle-trees, such as are not seen in the civilised cantonment. watch the slowly-sinking sun lighting up the near range of wooded hills. I pass tank after tank, and mark the duck edging off to the distant side as they watch suspiciously my cart rumbling along the road, while the whistling teal, less nervous, continues to paddle about among the mud near the water's edge. At last, when all is dark and silent, about 8 P.M., I arrive at my destination. I Let me describe my halting-place, as I saw it by the earliest rays of the next day's morning sun. A travellers' bungalow, but, being on an unfrequented road, a third-class one. A low mud-built cottage, containing only two rooms, but with the spacious Indian verandah, and with several tumble-down outhouses for servants. No furniture but a table, a couple of rude chairs and a charpoy, and these, I believe, had been lately sent in anticipation of my visit. But the situation, lovely. On a sloping grassy meadow, at the foot of low rolling hills covered with forest, which grows down to the back railing of the enclosure; a pootpath leads from the bungalow to the village, a quarter of a mile distant, from which come the varied sounds of Indian life, and the melodious wash of the great river on whose bank the vil- cess in a stalk, for, as he got near his game, and thought that every moment might bring him face to face with the mighty bull, off came the handkerchief and blanket, and were tightly twisted round his waist. His real vocation was collecting honey in the forest, in which he roamed in search of bees' nests for days at a time. He had come in twenty miles on foot during the previous night to meet me and get a job at his loved shikar, and there he stood, silent and ready for another long and possibly arduous day. The accounts of the presence of bison were conflicting, so it was settled that Afsul should go to consult some of the forest peons, and hear where the freshest tracks had been seen, and that we should not take the field till mid-day. It need hardly be said that the intervening hours lagged somewhat on their course; but a prolonged breakfast and a stroll passed the time, and noon came at last, and with it Afsul, his face wearing an expression of quiet satisfaction as he announced that he could take me to bison at once. In the morning after my arrival I held a levee of the village authorities, who came to pay their respects, and to learn the pleasure of the Sahib, who was recommended by the distant authority of their sovereign. The Amildar, an aristocratic-looking Mussulman in a red turban-a descendant of Tippoo, the Tiger Prince of Mysore, and, as such, a participator in a small way of the pension still given by his English conquerors; the Kotwal and Shaykdar, two Hindoos, whose object seemed to be to get as much money in backshish as they decently could; Abdul Rahman, the forest ranger, who arranges for the marking and felling of the valuable trees in the State forest, which yield no small slice of the yearly revenue of the native government. Last, and most important of all, Afsul, the shikarri. Never shall I forget him. Brave, keen, untiring, deeply skilled in woodcraft, I am proud to number him among the We started without delay-myvalued friends whom I made in self, Afsul, and a forest peon. I India. I always acted confidently carried the .450 express for any under his directions; he showed casual shooting, while Afsul me much sport, and I never found shouldered my 12-bore until the him wrong or at a loss. A little time of real action should arrive. bow-legged, wiry Mussulman, with We are all naturally gregarious broad deep chest, and long sinewy animals, but I must say that there arms, a keen aquiline face, and is to me an untold charm in a solithin pointed beard. He certainly tary sporting excursion, when I did not sacrifice much to appear- am alone in the vast wood-alone ance in his toilet, which only consisted of a very dirty waistcloth, an old ragged grey blanket over his shoulders, and a red cotton handkerchief twisted round his head. When I knew him better, this red handkerchief was a sure barometer of the probability of suc; at least as far as thought or conversation are concerned, for the means of communication with the shikarri are limited to the simplest subjects, and he is to me more like a highly trained pointer, who at my direction finds the game and brings me up to it, leaving the rest |