CHAPTER XI.
From lone hunt came the yearling cub And brought a grown kill back; With fangs aglut "'Tis nothing but Presumption!" growled the pack.
RALPH CUNNINGHAM reached Peshawur at last with no less than nine tigers to his gun, and that in itself would have been sufficient to damn him in the eyes of more than half of the men who held commands there.

Jealousy in those days of slow promotion and intrenched influence had eaten into the very understanding of men whose only excuse for rule over a conquered people ought to have been understanding.
It was not considered decent for a boy of twenty-one to do much more than dare to be alive.

For any man at all to offer advice or information to his senior was rank presumption.

Criticism was high treason.

Sport, such as tiger-shooting, was for those whose age and apoplectic temper rendered them least fitted for it.