A TIGER-HUNTING ADVENTURE.

Evening Post, Volume XLVII, Issue 147, 23 June 1894, Page 2 (Supplement)

A TIGER-HUNTING ADVENTURE.

A party of native gentlemen had some exciting sport at Gobundanga, in Bengal, recently. They first wounded a tiger, which, however, escaped. "This waß a moat bitter pill of disappointment to swallow, but, alas! there was help for it." Beating the Jam Bheel, they saw what Baboo Sasi Bhusan Mukerji, who chronicles the adventures of the Shikaris, took to be a bayjpony ; but it was really a magnificent tigeress, that walked leisurely along, and looked back now and then at the line of elephants with supreme indifference. The jungle was beaten, and the tigeress charged "tail on end with savage roar." The Baboo hit her right and left, and several shots from other sportsmen put an end to her. The grass was fired to bring out more game, and nearly with dire consequences to the party. " Before we were aware of the danger, we found ourselves hemmed in by the increasing flames. We made off as fast as we could, each man for himself and God for us all." Then came the most thrilling experience of the day. When the elephants in pursuit of a tiger came nearly to the edge of the river, the brute rushed out of the undergrowth with a tremendous roar. Baboo Sasi writes: — "I Ciugb.tr him with my 12-bore rifle in the side. He fell into the water, and a volley was poured on him from the other side of the river, 1 letting him have my other barrel as well. The water was dyed red ; but for all that the brute scrambled up the bank close to where I was standing, and the next moment I was charged. I had no time to put fresh cartridges in the rifle. 1 uaught hold of my express, and rolled him over with the right barrel. He was up again in a moment, and made towards me. I now took a careful aim with my left barrel and pulled the trigger, and, horror of horrors, the cartridge missed fire! I was quite helpless, with the furious brute -before me. I felt what I care not to feel again. I dare not reload for fear of being thrown off the howdah in case the tiger made home the charge. I caught hold of the railings of the howdah. But he was too far spent to do anything of the kind. He had not the strength though he had the will for a spring. He came close to my elephant, stared at me with his burning eyes, and then slowly retired among the reeds. I felt relieved, and reloaded my guns. The other sportsmen in the meantime crossed over and joined me. Jagat Baboo, Barada Baboo, and I formed a close line, and with our rifles cocked proceeded to the cover. No sooner had my elephant set her foot in the cover than the tiger rushed out with a savage growl. But this was his last charge. The next moment an express bullet went crashing through his neck, and he rolled over never to rise again. The coup de grace was then given by Jagat Baboo. Thus died the Rohilla tiger. It took us nearly four hours to hunt him down. The tiger measured 9 feet 1 0 inches, and the tigress of the morning measured 9 feet only. The whole day we had ! not our dinner, but were more than satisfied with the day's bag."