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The poor little herd-boy, whose brother had been killed, was twice before attacked by this same tigress; but a herd of fine large buffaloes which he tended, headed by a sagacious old bull, came at his call and drove her off. He was close to his brother when she seized him, and actually saw the tigress with her four cubs feeding off the body. Unfortunately, on this occasion, the buffaloes were grazing at some distance; had they heard the boy's cries, or seen the tigress, they would probably have charged and beaten her back, for they had been seen to attack her in a body several times when she ventured into the open plain; and the boy said he never feared a tiger as long as his cattle were near him.

The natives begged to be allowed to carry home the tigress after their own fashion, and she was accordingly handed over to them to be dealt with as they saw fit.

Having carefully singed off the whiskers, with various superstitious ceremonies, the body of the tigress, ornamented with garlands of flowers, was placed upright on a cart, drawn by eight bullocks, and in this state was dragged in procession through the village, preceded by a band of native musicians, and followed by a crowd of men, women, and children, exulting over the remains of their deadly foe, and invoking blessing on our heads for having rid them of her dreaded presence.

Killing a tiger is at all times a satisfactory exploit. But the death of a brute like this, such a pest while living, and so game in her last moments, is indeed a glorious victory. Were it not for the melancholy fate of the unfortunate beater, I should say this is the most satisfactory day's sport I have yet seen in India. "An accident of this sort is always a sad damper to one's feelings of triumph; but we have at least the satisfaction of thinking, that it was occasioned entirely by the poor fellow's own imprudence; and that by ridding the country of this dreadful scourge, we have probably been the means of saving many human lives at the expense of one.

In a later part of my journal, I find the following remarks upon the foolhardy courage displayed by natives in tiger-hunting, which, being à propos to the subject, may with propriety be introduced here.

Natives, in beating for a tiger, become excited in proportion to the increase of their danger, rushing wildly through the jungle, as if runing a muck, and frequently throwing themselves into the very jaws of the infuriated animal, in spite of the utmost exertions on the part of the European sportsmen to restrain them. This resolute manner of going to work generally insures the death of the tiger. But too often, in the moment of victory, comes the heart-sickening intelligence that some unfortunate fellow is lying mangled beside him. Nothing can exceed the determined bravery of the natives on such an occasion ; death seems to have no terrors for them when a tiger is their game ; not even the sight of their companion's dreadful fate can daunt them; and they seem actuated by some inspired feeling that renders them unconscious of fear.

I never could account for this, and have often in vain sought to trace the cause why the man who has for ages submitted to a foreign yoke, who trembles at the frown of an European, should possess courage

enough, voluntarily, to face so fearful a death. There is something inexpressibly terrible in the charge of a tiger. Man appears so defenceless, so utterly helpless, opposed to the gigantic strength of the striped monster, who springs upon him with a force that crushes him like a worm in the dust. I can say, from sad experience, it is a sight, once seen, of which time can never obliterate the remembrance. Yet the timid Hindoo, as he is called, opposes his feeble frame, armed only with a sword and shield, to this most formidable of all animals.

In the southern Mahratta country, I have known several instances of a body of men thus armed, rushing in upon a tiger, and cutting bim to pieces; but I never knew one case unattended with a serious loss of human life. When firearms are used, it must be allowed by any one who has ever seen an Indian matchlock, that some determination is required to face a tiger, under any circumstances, with such a miserable weapon. A matchlock is, without exception, the most awkward, ill-constructed engine, for throwing projectiles, that ever was invented. The barrel is from six to seven feet long, seldom quite straight, and enormously top-heavy; the stock, disproportionately short, is furnished with a shallow pan to contain the priming, which is protected from wet by a sliding lid, plastered with cow-dung; and a rude trigger, connected with the cock, to which is attached a match of hempen-cord dipped in saltpetre, completes this primitive weapon.

Thus armed, an European would be hopeless of doing execution. In the first place, the match must be lighted and the pan opened-it is quite a matter of chance whether or not the match ignites the damp priming--and if it does, there is no certainty of its communicating with the charge in the barrel, consisting of a handful of gunpowder, as coarse in the grain as bay-salt, pounded into a cake by means of an iron ramrod, jammed down with a piece of damp cow-dung, and surmounted by one or more bullets, not cast, but carved or haminered. Add to this, that the weapon has probably been loaded a month, and you will wonder, as I have often done, at any one hoping to make a successful shot with an Indian matchlock. A miss often proves fatal; but the Hindoo, strong in faith, mutters a prayer over his long barrel, and fires at a tiger's head as coolly as if he were aiming at a target. I quote the following ludicrous instance of sang froid on the part of a shikaree, during a lion hunt in Guzerat, as related by one of the party :

“I was infinitely diverted with one of the village coolies who accompanied us, his matchlock over his shoulder, the pan carefully closed with a bit of cloth, and a lump of burning cow-dung in his hand, with which to ignite his match if necessary. This worthy thus equipped, was literally poking his addled head into the very centre of the bush, said to contain the lion, and moreover, pulling the grass aside to admit of a better view.

“What, in the name of Heaven, are you doing? exclaimed my companion.

“Doing !' replied the fellow, with evident surprise, and coolly blowing his fid of cow-dung, 'why looking for the lion, to be sure! Are not you looking for him ? »

One other anecdote of foolhardy daring on the part of an European, and I have done with tigers for the present.

Some years ago a notorious tiger was marked into a thicket in Guzerat by the shikarees of a young officer, who was on that occasion on foot. He proposed that they should beat out the tiger, while he stood at one end of the jungle to shoot him as he broke cover. On this the shikarees tauntingly replied, “That he dared not enter the jungle, although he asked them to do so. Fired at this, the young Englishman exclaiming, “That he would never bid another do what he feared to do himself,' led the way into the dark thicket, followed by two natives. It was so interwoven with creepers, that they were obliged to crawl on their hands and knees; and in this awkward attitude they crept towards the tiger's lair, in almost total darkness. The monster was upon them with a roar like thunder, before there was time to raise a rifle. Both the natives were struck dead on the spot, and the gallant, though imprudent young man fell, stunned by a blow that nearly fractured his skull. He was dragged out severely lacerated, but eventually recovered.

TO JOANN IN A,

A YOUNG MALTESE.

By the MEDICAL STUDENT.

ARABIA sparkles in thine eye,

The sunny south illumes thy smile ;
Sirocco-tainted is thy sigh,

Thou daughter of the stony isle.
A burning beauty dazzles in

Thine every gesture word and glance ;
Thy presence is a spell to win

And hold the heart in helpless trance ;
Thy kiss is rapture,—and to touch
With

pressure soft thy gentle hand,
To feel beneath the glow of such

Dark eyes the spirit all unmann'd,
Were joy for which alone to live,

Life could not sure be passed in vain ;
Were bliss for which I well would give

A world of toil an age of pain.
Enchantress! though thy loveliness

Its own bright clime in warmth may mock,
I know thy heart is verdureless

And arid as thy native rock:
I know within thy form divine

That sordid feelings only move;
Oh, what an anguish then is mine,

In that I love thee—madly love!

THE BARNABYS IN AMERICA,

BY MRS. TROLLOPE,

CHAP. XL.

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It was impossible for Major Allen Barnaby to watch the painful languor of movement with which his charming wife withdrew from his side without admiration. Long as he had been her husband, he really did admire her exceedingly. Nor was the feeling of that light and idle kind which leads to nothing. He felt all her claim upon his ready co-operation in the scheme she had sketched out, and instantly began his share of the work by seeking Tornorino, and explaining to him both the business he had to perform, and the reason for it.

This was not a sort of business on which the graceful Don was at all likely to be dull of comprehension, and the major left him, on seeing his pale and trembling « Barnabyemerge again from the ladies'cabin, quite satisfied with the ready acquiescence he expressed. In the next moment the attentive husband was by his pallid lady's side, and having, according to order, laid her gently upon the sofa, he bustled off to seek his daughter. And now it was that the greatest difficulty arose.

Patty, upon being assured that her mother was sea-sick, or lake-sick, and desired her assistance, burst forth in her usual style of free remonstrance upon the absurdity of supposing that she could do her any good.

Lor, papa !" she exclaimed, “ how you do spoil her! I don't believe she's any more sick than I am. Why, she eat like a wolf at breakfast. I do wish you would let me alone, papa. I want to stay here till Tornorino comes back; he said he was only going for a minute, and he'll think I am tumbled overboard, if he does not find me here."

It has been hinted before, that the major, from some little feeling of paternal weakness, did not wish that his daughter should be made fully acquainted with all the manæuvrings to which he occasionally found himself compelled to have recourse, when his affectionate regard for the welfare of his family induced him to practise any triling irregularity in his monetary transactions. It was this feeling which now embarrassed hiin. Patty, as every body knows, was a very quick, intelligent young woman, and a very few words would have sufficed to make her comprehend the whole business; but Major Allen Barnaby did not like to speak these few words. He knew, however, that the co-operation of his daughter, in the rather hazardous scheme now afoot, was absolutely necessary, and therefore, after looking at her with an air of perplexity for half a minute, he said,

"Come, come, Patty, you must not only be a good girl, but a very particularly good girl just now, or we shall get into a worse scrape than you think for. After you all left New York, I got among a set of worthless chaps, which it is very difficult to help doing sometimes in a strange country, and we got quarreling, and, as ill-luck would have it, one of the fellows insisted upon it that I should fight a duel with him, which, I am sorry to say, ended fatally. I am sure I did not know it at the time, but I have been told since, that the United States government never forgives a man who kills another in a duel, and I am therefore now in the greatest possible danger of being taken up and executed."

“Lor, papa! How horrid !” exclaimed Patty, looking a little terrified; “ but what has all this to do with ma's being sick ?"

“ A great deal, my dear, as you will find, if you will but have patience to listen to me,” he replied. “I have discovered within this hour, Patty, that I am suspected by a man on board, and my only chance of saving myself, is by getting on shore disguised as a woman."

“Oh, goodness! What fun!" exclaimed Madame Tornorino, claping her hands with an air of great hilarity. “But lor, pa! they'll be sure to find you out.”

" I hope not, my dear," said the major, gravely; “but this will depend entirely on the manner in which my family assist me.”

“He then explained to her the mode in which he intended to proceed, endeavouring to impress upon her mind the absolute necessity of silence and caution amongst them all, and the conversation ended at last by her saying in a whisper, but very earnestly,

Well, pap, it shan't be my fault if you are hanged, you may depend upon

that.” Perfectly contented by this affectionate assurance, the major then dismissed her, and the subsequent scenes of the drama followed exactly in the order which Mrs. Allen Barnaby had laid down, and without any blundering whatever on the part of the dramatis persone, till the critical moment arrived when the major, with one arm resting on that of Tornorino, and the other raised in order to hold a pocket-handkerchief to his mouth, stepped forth with a languid air from the ladies' cabin, and began his hazardous progress through the long saloon appropriated to the gentlemen.

Nothing could possibly be better than the arrangement of his drapery. The large shawl thrown over his shoulders completely disguised the outline of his person ; and perhaps no man of his age, measuring five feet ten and a half, ever contrived to contract his limbs more skilfully than did Major Allen Barnaby as he slowly moved onwards. It was probably the perfect success with which he enacted his wife's attitude as he drooped his head a little on one side, while his feathers and flowing veil drooped also, that overset the gravity of Patty, which, till that moment, she had sustained admirably, but then, for one short moment, she forgot herself, and exclaiming aloud, “Oh! my goodness, how funny !" she clapped her hands in her usual joyous style, and laughed outright.

The admirable presence of mind of the Don, however, prevented any fatal effects from this thoughtless sally.

* Der is noting to laugh, my lof, in de sickness," he said, shaking his head very gravely, while the really suffering major uttered so sad

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