Marching and counter-marching through the heat of the day, we picked up another-prize in the afternoon.

It was a large old tiger, nine feet six as he lay; he fell an easy prey to the gun of the little collector of Pegnugger, who sent a bullet through his heart at the first shot, and smiled rather contemptuously as he removed the empty shell of the cartridge from his gun.

He would rather have had Kildare's chance in the morning.
After all, two tigers in a day was not bad sport for the time of year.

I knew Isaacs would be disappointed at not having had a shot, where his rival in a certain quarter had had so good an opportunity for displaying skill and courage; and I confessed to myself that I preferred a small party, say, a dozen elephants and three howdahs, to this tremendous and expensive _battue_.

I had a shot-gun with me, and consoled myself by shooting a peacock or two as we rolled and swayed homewards.