XVII. CROCODILES
Native names: ‘Muggur,’ the snub-nosed variety; ‘Ghayal,’ the long-nosed variety
The crocodile is a kind of vermin, of which there are two varieties in India—the flat-nosed and the long-nosed. Though not perhaps objects of the highest form of sport, still a good deal of fun may be had with them; and as they are awful brutes for robbing the sportsman of any birds that may be dropped on the water—will take down his dog if he sends it in to retrieve, and in many places will take human beings—their destruction should invariably be attempted.
A few may be shot with a rifle, but they are uncommonly wary, and nineteen out of twenty that are hit will get back into the water and be lost. The most satisfactory way of dealing with them, besides being far the most sporting, is to bait a good large hook with a bird or small animal, and fasten it by a chain to a good long rope, the end of which is firmly picketed, the rope being coiled and the bait laid in shallow water. There must be lots of slack line, as the crocodile does not swallow anything at once, but seizes it and takes it into deep water to gorge. A number of lines may be laid and looked up in the morning or cool of the evening. When hooked it will take a good many men to haul a crocodile out, and as he resents the operation and can use his tail as well as his jaws, one or two sportsmen will find considerable entertainment in despatching him with spears. Some crocodiles grow to an enormous size, and their maws always contain round white stones, and often trinkets, the relics of inside passengers. The writer assisted at the death of a not extraordinarily large ‘snub-nose,’ which had six women’s rings in her. This beast was a female, and full of eggs. Another plan worth trying is to tie up a kid in the evening as a bait, just sufficiently far from the water to attract the crocodiles by its bleating on to dry land, so that the sportsman, lying well hidden about sixty yards off, should be able to make sure of shooting them through the back of the head.
Landing a ghayal
Measurements.—British Museum: a snub-nose, 17 ft. 4 ins.; a long-nose, 15 ft. 1 in.
XVIII. GAUR (Gavæus Gaurus)
Native names: ‘Gaor,’ ‘Gaori-gai’; generally, ‘Gail,’ Chota Nagpur; ‘Khulga,’ Western Ghauts; ‘Karti,’ Mysore; ‘Mithan,’ Bhootan.
Gaur, or bison,[23] as they are usually called, are found in suitable localities, from the Terai, through Bhootan, Assam and Burmah, to the Malayan Peninsula and throughout Central and Southern India, but do not extend to Ceylon. The 28th degree of North latitude seems their extreme northern limit, otherwise it would be difficult to account for their absence in what appears to be such thoroughly suitable ground as the Sewalik range and the lower slopes of the Himalayas north of this limit, although elephants, whose food and requirements are almost identical with those of the gaur, are plentiful there. Hilly country, covered with extensive tracts of forest and bamboo jungle, is the likeliest ground for bison, though they occasionally visit the low ground at the foot of the hills, particularly when driven from the higher ridges by flies and the want of suitable pasture. Bison vary much in their habits according to locality; their migrations from high to low ground being mainly influenced by the rainfall (which regulates the growth of grass) and the prevalence of flies in their district. During the latter part of the rainy season, when the grass has grown high and coarse and flies are most numerous, Sanderson remarks that bison move into the thinner jungle at the foot of the hills. Forsyth says that in Central India bison retire to the tops of the hills at that season.
The general colour of an old bull bison is a dark brown, almost black, with a light slaty patch on the forehead, a grey muzzle, and the legs, from above the knees and hocks downwards, a yellowish white, the inside of the forearms and thighs being chestnut; the head is particularly handsome, and well-bred-looking, the high frontal which rises above the base of the horns adding to, rather than detracting from, its beauty; the pupil of the eye is large, and of a pale blue colour. Jerdon says the eyes are small. They may be in actual measurement, but they certainly do not appear so. The muzzle is large, and the ears broad without being coarse. The ears of an old bull are often torn to ribbons from fighting. The horns of such animals are rather rugged at the base, and the points are chipped and worn; but they are massive, have a beautiful outward curve, and are light coloured. The neck is short and powerful, the skin rather loose, with curious wrinkles in it that give the appearance of a small dewlap, which the beast is really destitute of. Behind the neck the beauty of the bison vanishes. The high dorsal ridge towering above the insertion of the neck makes the shoulders look loaded and straight, and the neck itself put on too low; the ridge running down to the centre of the back and there ending abruptly gives the quarters a dwarfed and drooping appearance, though this is far from being really the case. The tail is rather short and fine; the legs are particularly fine and clean, the hoofs being marvellously small and neat for so large an animal.
The cows, less heavily built than the bulls, are of a coffee-brown colour; the dorsal ridge is not so much developed, though it is still prominent; the legs are white instead of yellow—the writer heard an old bull described as looking as if he was wearing gaiters. The horns are thinner and more upright; young bulls are very like cows, and mistakes are frequently made when stalking herds, except by really experienced men. Old cows look enormous, they are often darker in colour than young bulls (in certain lights they look almost black), and are not unfrequently shot by mistake. Of course if there is an old bull in the herd to compare with them, there is little chance of error. The best bulls are those that have been driven from the herds by younger and more active rivals, and henceforward live alone. These solitary bulls are always the finest specimens, and are consequently the chief objects of the sportsman’s ambition. It is a very curious fact that bison appear to be the only animals which regularly resign, or are ousted from possession of, a herd when they attain their largest size and most powerful horns. Old stags will keep their hinds even when their horns are diminishing from age. Sanderson says solitary elephants are frequently young males waiting till they can appropriate a herd; but no sooner does a bison get really at his best to all appearances, than he at once gives way to a younger animal. The cream of bison shooting is naturally stalking them on foot. Sanderson describes hunting them on an elephant, a method which, of course, enabled him to bring heavy rifles into the field without fatigue, and was of enormous assistance in thick cover and in carrying the trophies; but his using the elephant to make the first approach must have considerably detracted from the sport, although he discarded his mount when following up a wounded beast.
The writer has had bison driven to him, on ground where stalking was impracticable owing to the density of the forest, and where the dryness of the season rendered tracking impossible; but there the fun only began when a wounded beast had to be followed up, though it was pleasant listening to the avalanche-like rush of an approaching herd, and amusing to see cows come through an apparently impenetrable thicket of bamboos, like harlequin through a trapdoor, only to stand staring at a few yards distance with their noses poked out, an expression of puzzled funk in their eyes.
A CHARGING GAUR
But when the first few showers of the rainy season have moistened the dry crackling leaves, and softened the ground so that tracks can be followed, you should start in the early morning so as to catch the beast before he is down for the day (that is, before the sun gets hot, about 9 a.m. according to Sanderson), and getting on the fresh tracks of a solitary bull, follow him up. If your trackers are good, you should soon begin to find signs that you are getting near him (the droppings warm, &c.); you can then dismount from your pony which you have been riding in rear, and close on the trackers with your gun-carrier till they show you the beast. But whether your trackers are good or not, it is quite useless for you to interfere with them unless you have sufficient experience to do the tracking yourself and let the men follow behind. You must take it for granted they are doing their best; the fact of their being on a bison’s trail will ensure their running no undue risk from carelessness, and if you interfere you only confuse and put them out: therefore take Sanderson’s advice, unless they wish you to keep close to them, which they probably will not do, ride your pony comfortably about one hundred yards in rear, till they signal you up. You should then be either pretty close to or within sight of your game. It is assumed that you have two rifles, an 8-bore and a 12-bore, with round bullets; conical bullets are not to be relied on in jungle. Try to approach within sixty yards, and get your first shot in with the 8-bore. Should the bull bolt, run after him at once, whether you have fired or not. Very likely he will pull up after going a short distance and give you a chance. Aim well forward; if you break his shoulder you are more likely to get him than if you take him too far back; keep him in sight as long as you can; if he goes out of sight sit down and smoke a pipe or have breakfast. In any case give him half an hour, then follow up with your trackers, carrying the 12-bore yourself and your gun-carrier the 8-bore. If the track lead into thick stuff, send a man up the first tree you come to, and if he cannot see the animal, work carefully on to the next tree in the direction the track leads, though not necessarily on it. Work clean through the thick patch in this way from tree to tree, till you get to the far side; never mind the trail inside. Should you get through without seeing the beast, try to pick up the trail outside, and if you fail in this go back the way you came to where you lost the track, and try working through it from tree to tree in another direction. If your lines have formed a not too broad angle at the point you left the trail, and you cannot track him outside, the bull should be within the triangle, and if there are no more trees you must follow the trail. Should the jungle happen to be ‘Kharwee,’ the stems of which are about as thick as your finger, growing about six inches apart and eight feet high, you will find it exciting enough. The bull will probably turn short off at an angle just before he lies down, and if he means mischief will be watching his trail; you will then probably get within ten yards of him before you see him, in which case you will be able to realise the sensations of a valiant mouse hunting a man in a stubble-field. At this period in the chase you will naturally have the 8-bore in hand again. Presently the bull will either start up close to you, or you will perceive a black mass on the ground. Your only course then is to fire and lie down on the ground at once; the smoke will prevent your getting in a second barrel, and if the bull charges the smoke he will gallop over you without seeing you. It is not a bad plan to leave a man permanently up the first tree you reach to watch till you have quite done with the cover, as he will probably be able to see where the bull goes if he moves. If the bull is wounded again in thick stuff and again lies down in it, he is probably past doing harm; but still it is advisable to give him the time of another pipe. A man up a tree who can watch the exact place he is lying in is invaluable. Natives at this period of the chase, more particularly the inexperienced ones, invariably get excited and lose their heads, offering to go in and pull the bull out by the tail, and looking upon any precaution taken as a sign of faint-heartedness on the part of the sportsman. If the sportsman gives way to them and allows them to accompany him in the final stalk, he will probably get some fool hurt through disobedience of orders. The last approach to a wounded bull in thick cover should invariably be made alone, or with one gun-bearer, the rest of the men being put up trees.
Solitary bulls, Sanderson declares, are not a bit more savage by disposition than herd bulls, and the instances of their attacking natives when unwounded are almost invariably due to the bull being approached unawares within striking distance in the midst of thick cover.
He narrates a case of a gentleman being killed on the Putney Hills in 1874, but this was through incautiously following a wounded bison into thick cover. In this case the beast went on at once, after killing his victim in his rush. ‘Only in one instance that I know of has a wounded bison turned and gored his victim. I do not even think the solitary bull is more dangerous when wounded and followed up than a member of a herd. I have seen both die without resistance, and both give some trouble.’ An officer on the Head-Quarters Staff at Madras had a very narrow escape from a wounded bull a few years ago, getting knocked down and only escaping by kicking the bull in the face as he tried to gore.
Several writers have noticed that a stag sambur or bull nylghao (apparently it is always a male) occasionally attaches himself to a herd of bison, and that this follower is invariably the wariest and most watchful beast in the herd. Forsyth mentions a bull nylghao in company with a herd of buffaloes. Sanderson states that the bison, after a sharp hunt, gives out an oily sweat, and in this peculiarity it differs from domestic cattle, which never sweat under any exertion. He also says that herd bison retreat at once if intruded upon by man, and never visit patches of cultivation in the jungle; later on, however, he enumerates three varieties of cattle disease to which they are liable, and states that they sometimes contract these diseases by feeding in jungles used by infected domestic cattle. Of course these two statements are not necessarily contradictory, but the writer when shooting in the Western Ghauts found both herd and solitary bison within a mile or two of villages, saw their tracks on patches of ground cleared for crops in the jungle, on one occasion found bison on the side of a hill overhanging a main road on which there was daily a certain amount of traffic and near enough to it to see and hear the passers-by; and there was a range of hills, the plateau on the summit of which was a kind of open down where the village cattle were daily brought to graze, and there were a good many bison in the densely wooded ravines and slopes. The writer had been studying Sanderson’s book before starting, as every sportsman should who desires success in the pursuit of bison, and was particularly struck by the tolerance these herds, at all events, showed to the vicinity of natives.
Measurements
| Authority | Nose to root of tail | Tail | Height at shoulder | Height at rump | Length, dorsal ridge | Height, dorsal ridge | Girth chest | Girth neck | Muzzle to frontal ridge | Breadth forehead | Ear | Length of horn | Girth of horn | Splay at tips | Tip to tip across forehead | Widest span inside | Remarks |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Gavæus gaurus | |||||||||||||||||
| ins. | ins. | ins. | ins. | ins. | ins. | ins. | ins. | ins. | ins. | ins. | ins. | ins. | ins. | ins. | ins. | ||
| Sterndale (‘Mammalia’) | 114½ | 34½ | 73½ | 63 | 40 | 4½ | .. | .. | 25¾ | 15½ | 10½ | .. | 19½ | 25 | .. | .. | Quoting Sir Walter Elliot |
| ” | 104½ | 37¾ | 69 | .. | 29½ | .. | 104 | 48½ | 24 | .. | .. | .. | .. | 27¼ | .. | .. | Quoting Mr. Blyth |
| ” | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | 17 | 22½ | 83 | 38½ | ? Outside |
| ” | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | 19 | 19 | 74 | 33 | ?” |
| Sanderson (‘Thirteen Years among Wild Beasts’) | .. | .. | 72 | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | 19 | 19 | 74 | 33 | ?” |
| Mr. J. D. Goldingham, Bethnal Green Museum | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | 33¾ | 17¼ | 24 | .. | .. | Rowland Ward, ‘Horn Measurements’ |
| Mr. T. W. H. Greenfield | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | 33½ | 18½ | 25 | .. | 33¼ | ” |
| Mr. J. Carr Saunders | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | 13 | .. | 32 | 17¼ | 33½ | 79½ | 46 | Outside |
| Mr. A. O. Hume | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | 31⅞ | 17⅛ | 21⅜ | .. | 32½ | Rowland Ward, ‘Horn Measurements’ |
| Bombay Nat. Hist. Soc. Proc. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | 31½ | 18 | 29 | .. | 43 | Outside” |
| Mr. J. D. Goldingham, Bethnal Green Museum | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | 31¼ | 16⅜ | 12⅝ | .. | 27½ | ” |
| Madras Museum | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | L: 30¾ R: 25½ | 20 | 36¼ | 70¾ | 44 | ? Outside. ‘Smoothbore’s Letter to the “Asian”’ |
| Shot by General Cox | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | 4 | ?” |
| ” | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | 46 | ?” |
| Lieut.-Col. Sandys | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | 30½ | 16½ | 13½ | .. | 33¼ | Rowland Ward, ‘Horn Measurements’ |
| Mr. J. Carr Saunders | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | 30⅛ | 17⅞ | 33⅜ | .. | 40¼ | Outside” |
| Sir E. G. Loder, Bart. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | 29⅞ | 18¼ | 30 | .. | 34 | ” |
| Sir V. Brooke | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | 29¾ | 18⅝ | 25¼ | .. | 30⅜ | ” |
| ” | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | 29⅝ | 18½ | 16¼ | .. | 26½ | ” |
| Mr. J. D. Inverarity | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | 29½ | 18 | .. | .. | 33 | Outside” |
| General Hardwicke, British Museum | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | 29¼ | 12⅞ | .. | .. | 18 | ” |
| Mr. B. H. Hodgson, Brit. Mus. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | 29⅛ | 16⅝ | 20⅜ | .. | 29¼ | ” |
| Mr. O. Shaw | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | 29 | 22 | .. | .. | .. | ” |
| Major Greenaway | .. | .. | 65 | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | 29 | 22 | .. | .. | .. | ” |
| The Writer | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | 27 | 19⁹⁄₁₀ | 19⁴⁄₁₀ | 69⁹⁄₁₀ | .. | ” |
| Col. Kinloch | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | 69 | 36 | ? Outside. ‘Large Game Shooting’ |
| ” | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | 17 | .. | 66½ | .. | ” |
| Forsyth | .. | .. | 71 | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | ‘Highlands of Central India’ |
| ” | .. | .. | 69 | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | 17 | .. | .. | 37½ | ? Outside” |
| ” | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | 25½ | 15½ | .. | .. | .. | ” |
| Average of good head | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | 27 | 18 | .. | .. | .. | |
In Assam, Chittagong and Burmah the natives own large numbers of domesticated animals called ‘mithun’ or ‘gayal,’ which are very similar to bison in appearance, but are without the characteristic frontal ridge, and are said to have a small dewlap. Sterndale distinguishes these under the name of Gavæus frontalis, and quotes Dr. F. Buchanan Hamilton and Professor Garrod’s account from Mr. Macrae to the effect that the natives recruit their tame herds by catching and taming wild animals. But both Sanderson and Kinloch, who have hunted in the districts where the tame gayal are numerous for the express purpose of bagging a wild one, declare that such an animal does not exist, that the wild animals in those parts are the same as bison anywhere else, and that the peculiarities of the tame ones are due to domestication and inter-breeding with domestic cattle.
As regards measurements of heads, the same disappointing practice prevails with bison as with buffalo, viz.: measuring from tip to tip of the horns across the forehead, in addition to which (with bison) heads are frequently estimated only as regards the width of splay between the horns, without any reference to their length and girth. This latter measurement is the more misleading, as a deformed head with unnatural lateral sweep is more valued than one with long massive horns which grow closer together. The fairest measurement is length and girth at base of horn only.
XIX. BURMESE WILD OX (Gavæus sondaicus)
Native names: ‘Tsoing,’ Burmah; ‘Banteng,’ Java; (Sterndale). Habitat: Burmah, the Malayan Peninsula, Sumatra, Borneo and Java. Blyth says it is domesticated in the Island of Bali.
This animal resembles the gaur in many respects, having the distinctive white stockings, but has no frontal or dorsal ridge. Its horns are more like those of the gayal, but it has not the dewlap of the latter, and it appears to be a much smaller and lighter built animal than either gaur or gayal.
The old bull is black with white stockings and a white patch on each buttock, the cows and young bulls being bright chestnut. There is a stuffed specimen in the British Museum which shows the difference very plainly. The only measurements the writer has been able to obtain are those of the horns.
Measurements
| Authority | Length of horn | Girth of horn | Splay at tips | Widest span inside | Remarks |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Gavæus sondaicus | |||||
| ins. | ins. | ins. | ins. | ||
| British Museum | 24¾ | 12¼ | 15¾ | 24¼ | From Java, Rowland Ward, ‘Horn Measurements’ |
| Mr. H. B. Low, British Museum | 21⅜ | 12¼ | 13⅛ | 19¼ | From Borneo ” |
| Mr. J. Carr Saunders | 21 | 12 | .. | .. | ” |
| Mr. H. B. Low, British Museum | 20⅝ | 12¼ | 18⅛ | 22⅛ | ” Rowland Ward, ‘Horn Measurements’ |
| British Museum | 20 | 12 | .. | .. | |
| Mr. H. B. Low, British Museum | 19¼ | 11¼ | 10⅛ | 15¾ | From Borneo, Rowland Ward, ‘Horn Measurements’ |
| ” | 18¼ | 10⅞ | 14½ | 18⅝ | ” |
| ” | 18 | 12¼ | 13⅜ | 16⅝ | ” |
XX. YAK (Poephagus grunniens)
Native names: ‘Donkh,’ ‘Dhong,’ Ladak; ‘Bunchowr,’ Hindi
Wild yak are said to be plentiful throughout Thibet, but at present the Tartars watch their frontier so jealously that it is almost impossible for Europeans to cross with any chance of obtaining sport; particularly as the sportsman’s own Tartar attendants would be the first to endeavour to frustrate any ambitious schemes of exploration. It must be remembered that, not only would they be held responsible by the Leh authorities if anything happened to an Englishman, but, living on the frontier themselves, they naturally like to be on good terms with their neighbours. The valley of Chang Chenmo, north of the Pangong Lake, and the ground between the Niti Pass and the Sutlej, are the only two easily accessible places where yak may be met with. Beyond Chang Chenmo there is said to be good ground on the Karakash, but to cross the Linzinthung plains would require special arrangements, and ponies would have to be taken instead of the ordinary tame yaks on account of the scarcity of grass. An old wild bull yak is a magnificent beast; he is nearly jet black, with a little grey about the muzzle and forehead. Though fifteen hands in height, his legs are short and sturdy. The long shaggy hair which droops from his body reaches down to his knees, and sometimes almost to the ground; and his huge swab of a tail rather adds to than detracts from his beauty. The white tails which are brought for sale are those of tame yaks; a wild bull’s tail is such an unwieldy mass of hair that it is not at all the sort of thing to have flipping round one’s head on a hot evening. Tame yaks have often a good deal of white about them. Wild yaks with white patches have occasionally been shot, but only cows as far as the writer can learn; wild bulls appear always to be black. The Tartars say that these mottled wild yaks are hybrids between the tame bulls, which are turned out to graze on the hills in the summer, and wild cows.
Captain Duff contributes the following interesting account of a successful stalk after yak:
I was out one day after a couple of Thibetan antelope, and not being able to get near them, was looking about to see if there was any game farther up the nullah. Right away up the head of the valley we saw a large herd of dhong, about twenty or more, with a lot of young ones, and even at that distance we could distinguish one much bigger than the rest. The next day, a heavy fall of snow prevented my going out; but on the third day, I started to try for them. It was a long walk to get anywhere near the herd, and of course, just as I was beginning to go a bit carefully, and take advantage of cover, I put up three very fair Oves Ammon, but the dhong did not seem to notice them, and the wind all through was in my favour. A bit farther on I came across one of those beastly kyang, which would keep running on in front of me till I could get across the river at the bottom of the valley. When I got up to where I expected to find the dhong, I found they had moved a good bit higher up the nullah, and I could not possibly get nearer than some three hundred yards from them. Leaving my gun-carrier and a Tartar behind with strict orders not to stir till I fired, I tried to crawl on with my shikari, but had to return before getting any distance, the dhong meanwhile feeding farther away and going up the hillside, thus making the stalk more and more difficult. I had seen no signs of my big friend, and began to think I had been mistaken; but there was a fair-sized bull with the herd. I now had to retrace my way for some distance, and get down to the river again, so as to creep up under cover of the bank till I got a hill between the dhong and myself. On reaching this hill, I found I could not possibly get within shot, and could do nothing but hide behind a large stone and wait.
I suppose I must have waited at least a couple of hours, when there was a bit of a commotion among the herd, the babies all running to the big ones, and I heard a funny noise which I could not account for. In a few minutes I saw the big bull appear from round the side of the hill, walk leisurely towards the herd, and lie down. Just then three chankos came past me, and I came to the conclusion that they had occasioned the scare, had been driven off by the big bull, and had made the noise I heard.
I waited for another good half-hour, and had almost made up my mind to crawl towards the bull in the hope that he would mistake me for one of the chankos coming back, and so give me a shot, when up he got, but only to walk a few yards, and then go down again and roll.
After a bit of this sort of play he got up again, and taking no notice of the rest of the herd, began walking towards me.
There was a little stream at the foot of the hill I was on, and the bull was walking quietly down the opposite bank, coming on slowly, looking like a young elephant with his hair nearly touching the ground on each side of him.
I waited and waited for him, till he got almost past me, and within about sixty or seventy yards, and then he stopped, looking down the nullah, and broadside on to me. I tried to get steady on him and fired; but he stood still, and my shikari said I had missed. The ground beyond him was softish, and I began to be afraid I had, and had not seen the bullet strike, so I fired again, and the bull dropped in his tracks. I found my first shot had hit him in the neck, and must have paralysed him, as he could not move his forelegs, though he could kick with his hind ones. My second shot was a wild one, and had only broken a hind fetlock. The rest of the herd ran in all directions at the shot, and then getting together, made for the top of the valley. As soon as I saw that the big bull could not get away, I started after them, and managed to get two more bulls.
The big bull was really a very fine beast, his forehead covered with curly grey hair. He measured just over 15 hands 1¼ in. as he lay. I put a stick as upright as I could against his withers, and measured to his heel.
Measurements
| Authority | Height at shoulder | Length, head and body | Tail | Girth at shoulder | Girth at belly | Girth at neck (thinnest part) | Length, horns | Girth at base | Splay, tip to tip | Widest span inside | Remarks |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Bos grunniens | |||||||||||
| ins. | ins. | ins. | ins. | ins. | ins. | ins. | ins. | ins. | ins. | ||
| Hume Collection, British Museum | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | 38¼ | 17 | 19 | 31½ | Rowland Ward, ‘Horn Measurements’ |
| Col. E. Smyth, Leeds Museum | 72 | 130½ | 37 | 121 | 112 | 50 | 36 | 18 | .. | .. | Gen. Macintyre, ‘Hindu Koh’ |
| Major FitzHerbert, Cambridge Museum | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | 35 | 15 | .. | .. | |
| Hume Collection, British Museum | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | 34⅞ | 15 | 16 | 27¾ | Rowland Ward, ‘Horn Measurements’ |
| Hon. W. Rothschild | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | 34 | 12 | 20½ | .. | ” |
| British Museum | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | 32⅜ | 13⅜ | 16½ | 26⅜ | ” |
| Mr. H. C. V. Hunter | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | 32 | 13⅞ | 15¼ | 22¼ | ” |
| Major Ward | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | 31½ | .. | .. | .. | ‘Sportsman’s Guide to Ladak, &c.’ |
| ” | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | 31 | .. | .. | .. | ” |
| ” (quotes one) | 70 | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | ” |
| ” | 64 | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | ” |
| ” | 64 | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | ” |
| Sir R. Harvey, Bart. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | 30¾ | 13½ | 10½ | .. | Rowland Ward, ‘Horn Measurements’ |
| Capt. Duff | 61½ | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | |
| Col. Kinloch | 60 or more | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | about 36 | about 14 | .. | .. | ‘Large Game Shooting’ |
| Jerdon’s ‘Mammalia’ | 66 | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | 30 | 15 | .. | .. | |
| Major FitzHerbert | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | 21 | 8 | .. | .. | (A cow) |
| Average of good head | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | 27 | 12 | .. | .. | |
In 1866 another sportsman managed to evade the Tartars, and crossing the Sutlej beyond Niti, found a herd of eighty yak, out of which he shot a bull and three cows, one of the latter being piebald.
There is a quaint story from Nepal, that, during the war between the Nepalese and the Thibetans, Jung Bahadur, finding his army very short of food, referred the case to the chief priests in Khatmandu, who decided that yak were deer, and not cattle at all, as their tails were different, and so might safely be killed and eaten by the pious Nepalese.
XXI. BUFFALO (Bubalus arni)
Native names generally: ‘Ban Bhains,’ ‘Arná’ the male, ‘Arni’ the female; in Bengal, ‘Mains’
The buffalo is found in Nepal, and extends eastward through Assam to Burmah. It is plentiful in the Sunderbuns, in the Central Provinces, and in Ceylon, but is not found, according to Sanderson, in Southern India. Forsyth gives 80° as the extreme western limit of buffaloes in Central India, and says that they are not found north of the Nerbudda river.
The wild buffalo only differs from the tame one in being slightly larger and more uniform in colour (tame ones are of many shades, and have often a good deal of white about them, in fact albinos are not uncommon), and in having regular white stockings, which the tame ones may or may not have. The horns are more symmetrical and larger. In the high grass jungles of the Terai and Assam, buffaloes are generally shot off elephants, and Kinloch notices ‘the strong sweet bovine scent’ emitted by a herd. In the Sunderbuns and parts of Lower Bengal they are occasionally shot out of boats when the country is flooded. The sport is described as magnificent, but requires a fever-proof constitution.
In the Central Provinces, however, the ground is more open; there buffaloes can be stalked on foot, and Captain Forsyth gives an account of a sparkling episode when shooting buffaloes from horseback.
When pursuing them on foot, the best time for sport is in April and May, when a good deal of the grass has been burnt and water is comparatively scarce. The best way of finding the animals is to look for fresh tracks near pools of water, and follow them up. The plan recommended for bison, of sending the trackers on ahead, should be adopted if possible.
Captain Lamb gives the following interesting account of a stalk:
I started up the river bed and found fresh tracks. After following the track for a good way we came on a single bull feeding on a grassy plain about half a mile in width, studded with a few trees. Leaving all the men behind, I crept up on my stomach to within about forty yards of him, and got behind a small pollard tree without the bull being aware of my presence. I fired at his shoulder with the 12-bore, and he fell over kicking on his back. Just as I was going to give him another shot, a second and larger bull rushed out from the long grass and attacked number one, who was still kicking on the ground. He gave him a tremendous punishing, bowling him over whenever he attempted to rise. I was so astonished at the whole thing, that I simply stood and watched. After a little while, number two seemed to think there was something wrong, and stopped to look round; whereupon, I took the opportunity of giving him a shot, which laid him on his back like his fellow. Both bulls then got up and went into the long grass. I followed number one, going very cautiously, as I was not quite sure of number two’s whereabouts. I came up with number one, who was still on his legs, knocked him over again and finished him with a shot behind the ear. I then went after number two and killed him without any difficulty. The fight had been quite knocked out of him.
Buffaloes appear to charge much more readily when hunted with a line of elephants or from boats than when stalked on foot. In the first case at all events the buffalo is generally roused from his midday sleep, and attacked at close quarters, when his temper is ruffled, while when stalked on foot he gets such a severe wound when feeding (probably without seeing his enemy) that the fight is knocked out of him to start with. Still fatal instances have occurred, notably in the case of Mr. Chatterton, of the police, who was killed by a buffalo in 1886.
‘He gave him a tremendous punishing’
Measurements
| Authority | Length, nose to root of tail | Tail | Girth of body | Girth of forearm | Height at shoulder | Length of horn | Girth of horn | Tip to tip across forehead | Splay at tips | Widest span inside | Sex | Remarks |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Bubalus arni | ||||||||||||
| ins. | ins. | ins. | ins. | ins. | ins. | ins. | ins. | ins. | ins. | |||
| British Museum | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | 78 | 17 | .. | .. | .. | Bull (?) | Pair of horns without skull |
| ” | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | 77⅜ | 17⅞ | .. | .. | .. | Bull | (Single horn) Rowland Ward, ‘Horn Measurements’ |
| ” | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | R65½ L68¼ | 20¼ | 146¾ | 98 | .. | ” | |
| Colonel J. Mathie, British Museum | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | 65¾ | 20¼ | .. | .. | .. | ” | Rowland Ward, ‘Horn Measurements’ |
| British Museum | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | 58⅝ | 12⅜ | .. | .. | .. | Cow (?) | ” |
| Mrs. Hannaford | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | 58½ | 13¼ | .. | .. | .. | Cow | ” |
| British Museum | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | 58½ | 12¾ | .. | .. | .. | Cow (?) | ” |
| Bethnal Green Museum | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | 58¼ | 18 | .. | 42¼ | .. | Bull | ” |
| British Museum | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | 58¼ | 13 | .. | .. | .. | Cow | |
| Mr. J. D. Inverarity | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | 57 | .. | .. | .. | .. | Bull | ” |
| Mr. Eyre Coote | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | 56 | 15½ | .. | 55½ | 58 | ” | ” |
| Mr. J. Carr Saunders | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | 55½ | 18½ | 124 | .. | .. | ” | |
| Hume Collection, British Museum | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | 54½ | 18⅛ | .. | 38¼ | 48⅞ | ” | ” |
| Mr. A. O. Hume | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | 53⅞ | 12 | .. | .. | .. | Cow (?) | ” |
| Baron de Nolde | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | 53¼ | 21 | .. | 26⅞ | .. | Bull | ” |
| Hume Collection, British Museum | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | 53¼ | 12⅛ | .. | .. | .. | ” | ” |
| Mr. B. H. Hodgson, British Museum | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | 53⅛ | 12½ | .. | .. | .. | ” | ” |
| British Museum | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | 53 | 12⅛ | .. | .. | .. | ” | ” |
| Hume Collection, British Museum | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | 52¾ | 18¼ | .. | 30½ | 44⅛ | Bull | ” |
| British Museum | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | 52 | 16¾ | .. | .. | .. | ” | ” |
| Colonel Kinloch | 115 | 47 | 99 | 20 | 60 | .. | .. | 99 | .. | .. | ” | ‘Large Game Shooting’ |
| ” | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | 122 | .. | .. | Cow | ” |
| ” | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | 151 | .. | .. | Bull | Quoted ” |
| ” | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | over 156 | .. | .. | Cow | Quoted ” |
| Sterndale’s ‘Mammalia’ | 123 | .. | .. | .. | 76 | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | |
| Captain Lamb | .. | .. | .. | .. | 64 | 48 | .. | .. | .. | .. | Bull | |
| Average of good head { | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | 48 | 18 | .. | .. | .. | Bull | |
| .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | 50 | 12 | .. | .. | .. | Cow | ||
Kinloch gives an account of a bull charging elephants both before and after being wounded. When they have thoroughly made up their minds to fight, buffaloes will, as a rule, carry out their plans most resolutely; but wild ones, though in a less degree, have the same kind of slow-wittedness that is so remarkable in tame buffaloes. If a European rides past a herd of tame buffaloes in some rather out-of-the-way district where Europeans are scarce, some of the herd are sure to begin pondering on the advisability of charging him, but before they can make up their minds, the object of their attentions has got beyond reach and they give up the problem. The average size of a good bull’s horns is about 40 ins. in length by 16 ins. in girth, or about 8 ft., measuring from the tip of one horn round the curve across the forehead and up the other horn. It is somewhat unfortunate that sportsmen should have selected this style of measurement, as it gives a poor idea of the comparative size of horns.
Forsyth and Kinloch both agree that a front shot is rarely successful against buffaloes, owing to the angle at which their heads are carried and the enormous thickness of their chests. Forsyth recommends hardened bullets, as he found two ounce bullets of soft lead propelled by eight drachms of powder flattened on their shoulders, pulverising the bone but not penetrating to the vital parts. Williamson describes shooting buffaloes out of boats in flood-time, and says that the point to aim at in this sport is to get the beast into such deep water that he cannot lower his head to use his horns.
As for using dogs for buffalo, Forsyth’s experience with a wounded bull was not a happy one; he writes: ‘The dogs were now loosed, and bayed round him till he began to chase them all round the field; but as soon as our heads appeared over the fringe of grass, he left them and charged down at ourselves.’ In spite of one of the dogs pinning him by the nose, the bull made good his charge, knocking Forsyth’s rifle out of his hand and upsetting his companion.
XXII. SAMBUR (Rusa Aristotelis)
Generally, ‘Sambur’ or ‘Maha’; in Gurwhal, ‘Jerow’ or ‘Barasingh’
The sambur is found throughout the lower slopes of the Himalayas from the eastern bank of the Sutlej river (Kinloch points out that the Sutlej seems to be its boundary), and extends all over India and Ceylon to the south, and through Assam and Burmah as far as the Malay Peninsula to the south-east, wherever there are forest-clad hills. It does not ascend to any great elevation, being rarely found above an altitude of 5,000 or 6,000 ft. It seems to delight in heat, not, indeed, of the sun, as it is as careful of its complexion as a gooral, but of hot stony hills and stifling ravines covered with thick forest.
Sambur appear to require very little water, drinking, according to Sterndale, only every third day—a fact which the writer’s experience entirely confirms.
The general colour of the stag is dark sepia, the chin and inside of limbs yellowish-white, and an orange-yellow patch on the buttocks. The dirty yellow patch on the chin is sometimes very striking, and looks as if the stag had the skin of a pale orange in his mouth. The tail is large, the hair being coarse and very dark brown; and on the neck there is a shaggy coarse ruff. The ears are large and coarse, rounded in shape, nearly black, and almost hairless. Sterndale calls the sambur a noble creature, but compared with the Cashmere stag, red deer, or wapiti, he looks an ugly, coarse, underbred brute. The horns are massive, with a long brow antler and a bifurcated top, and in good specimens are about 40 ins. in length; longer horns are obtained occasionally, but not often. As the sambur is almost entirely nocturnal in its habits, it is most commonly shot in drives, and in many places it is almost impossible to obtain sambur otherwise; but where it can be managed, stalking is, of course, far better fun. The sportsman should be on his ground just before daylight, and work slowly through the forest at the edge of the feeding grounds, taking the bottom of the hill if there are crops on the plain below, or, failing these, the edges of the open glades in the forest. Presently, if there are any sambur about, he will hear their trumpet-like call, and, creeping on, see two or three dark forms moving among the trees. In the grey of the morning it is often very hard to distinguish a stag from a hind, and the writer has on several occasions had to wait after viewing the herd till there was light enough to pick his stag. Even in broad daylight it is difficult to judge the size of a stag’s horns as he stands motionless in the deep gloom of the forest, and what little can be seen of them makes them look three times their real size—the beam is so massive and the tines so long. The stag, too, is such a big beast, standing nearly a hand taller than a barasingh, that if seen in the open he looks as big as an Irish elk.
If the sportsman fails to intercept any stags on their return from their feeding grounds by working along the base of the hill, he should next ascend the hill and try the cup-like basins which are so often found near the summits. Sambur are very fond of these spots, but a first-rate local shikari is necessary to show the way to them, as there is often no sign of the existence of such places from the foot of the hill, the trees appearing to grow taller in them on purpose to hide them from observation from below. The approach to them is often up a heartbreaking boulder-strewn slope, which apparently continues to the summit. Up this the sportsman toils, thinking his shikari must have lost his way, when suddenly he comes upon a dark cool glen, and in it there is pretty sure to be a herd. The above applies chiefly to the isolated hills which rise out of the plains in Central India; in ranges like the Sewaliks the best plan is to walk along the top of a ridge, examining the ravines below, and in the grass on the crest of these ridges will often be found places where sambur have been lying down under the trees, the form being carefully chosen so that the shade of the tree will be over it during the hottest part of the day. Many pleasant little incidents may occur during an early morning stroll in the Sewaliks; kakur, gooral, and chital afford tempting shots if the sportsman likes to vary his bag, and an occasional bear, leopard, or tiger may be met with. One sportsman met a tiger almost face to face just as he gained the crest of a ridge. The man only had a light single-barrel rifle, so he wisely refrained from attack under the circumstances, and, the tiger being a well-behaved deer-stalking beast, the two passed the time of day and parted. Wild elephants, too, are not uncommon in certain parts, so that altogether there is always a chance of finding amusement. What fun there must have been in the Sewaliks in the days of the Ganesa mammoth and the four-horned moose-like sivatherium! Their remains in the British Museum make one’s mouth water to think of them.
Among the larger ranges of hills in Southern India, the best way of hunting is to send men in pairs before daybreak to well-chosen positions to watch the forest, the sportsman with one attendant taking a line of his own, and working on or watching his particular beat till the sun is beginning to get powerful and the animals have lain down for the day; then he should himself go round the different groups of watchers and collect their reports. It is important that the sportsman should go round himself and not depute the work to his shikari, as a stag or a bear may often have been marked down to an inch by the watchers and may be stalked forthwith, whilst if a drive be decided upon the sportsman has an opportunity of studying the ground and settling all the details with his head shikari on the spot. Having gone round his sentries and withdrawn the men, he should then return to camp for breakfast, order beaters for any drives he has decided on, and about 11 a.m., when the sun is really hot and the animals marked down are likely to be disinclined to move, and so enable the beaters and guns to get into position, he should begin operations. All driving should be done in the heat of the day, when the animals are lying down; trying to drive when beasts are naturally on the move generally results in the game leaving the beat before the men are in their places. Another great point to attend to in driving is for the sportsman, if possible, to get up into a tree. It may sound ridiculous for a man to climb up a tree in a sambur drive, but he is far more likely to get an easy shot in this position, as the deer will neither see nor wind him, he commands more ground, and he runs no risk of heading back the wary old hind which often leads the herd; the chances being that if he is rightly posted the herd will come right under his tree. Another advantage is that, his fire being plunging, he can shoot all round without danger to the beaters. If two or three guns are out, it is more than ever necessary to try to post them well up off the ground. Having settled himself in his tree, the sportsman should send his gun-carrier to some tree or rock at least a hundred yards behind him, so that the course taken by a wounded animal can be observed. Tracking in jungle is often very difficult work, and a sharp gun-carrier posted well to the rear will often save a lot of trouble. In some parts of the Himalayas native shikaris declare that they often shoot sambur by selecting a likely path and improvising a salt-lick, after the fashion of Laplanders when they want to catch their tame reindeer. General Macintyre describes the formation of a ‘kar’ and his adventures in watching one; he calls it a dirty way of killing ‘jurrow.’
Though sambur occasionally throw out abnormal tines, they usually carry only three antlers on each horn—a long brow antler and two on top. The horns are generally shed about the end of March, and are free from velvet about the beginning of November. Major Ward’s remarks about shooting small stags are well worth quoting:
Remember that sambur are not prolific; they seldom have more than one fawn, and that it is four years before the young stag assumes his complete shape of horn, and that he has still three or four years to live before he can have a pair of antlers worth preserving. He has quite sufficient chances against his attaining an age of seven or eight years, without having to run the risk of being shot down by the rifle bullet whilst still in his immature state.
Shooting hinds is quite unpardonable, the venison being not worth eating.
XXIII. HOGDEER (Axis porcinus)
Native name: generally ‘Para’
Kinloch aptly describes this deer as the rabbit of Indian battues. It is a long-bodied rather heavily built beast on short legs with horns like a small sambur, the brow antlers coming straight up from the burr at an acute angle without the handsome curve of those of the spotted deer. The stags are reddish brown, their hair coarse and thick, their tails rather long and exactly of the sambur type, their ears round, not pointed like a spotted deer. When galloping through the grass the hogdeer carries its head low, its horns laid back on the neck, and its rump high. It is found throughout the high grass swamps at the foot of the Himalayas and on the islands and banks of the big rivers. High grass and plenty of water are its chief requisites. It expends through Assam to Burmah, and is also found in Ceylon.
Hogdeer shooting
It is usually shot when beating the large tracts of grass in the Doon and Terai with a line of elephants, and affords pretty snap shooting from a howdah when better game is not expected. The does will squat in the grass till the elephants almost kick them up, but the way to get the best stags is to go well ahead of the line on a flank, or, if possible, post yourself on foot so as to command a nullah leading from one patch of grass to another, or the dry sandy channel separating two islands. This, however, is a matter of some risk, as, if hogdeer are plentiful, the firing from the line becomes fast and furious, and unless you are on an elephant the guns in the line cannot see where you are. Shooting from a howdah is an art which requires practice, and many a good rifle-shot on foot finds himself missing hideously when he first tries shooting off an elephant. A very sound rule is, never to put your head down on the stock, but keep it well up, look hard at the beast’s shoulder and see as much of its body as possible over the muzzle of the rifle: the range is generally short and nearly all misses go high. Shooting hogdeer from elephant has been likened, with some confusion of ideas, to shooting rabbits from a pitching collier in a gale of wind in the Bay of Biscay.
Hogdeer are often put up when pigsticking in grass, and give capital runs.
Major FitzHerbert had a quaint bit of sport in 1874. He slipped a brace of dogs at a stag and rode after them; in his own words:
The stag made for the river, and as the ground got more and more open the bitch caught sight of him, made a rush and soon got up to him; she laid hold and pulled him over, but as the dog would not help her, the stag shook her off and went away again. When she came up to him again, he stood at bay with head down and bristles raised like a miniature red deer of Landseer’s, but broke away when I came up. Once he charged the bitch and knocked her over: he stood at bay two or three times, but I never could get a spear into him for fear of hurting the dogs; at last one time as he was breaking bay I came up, and he charged me with such force as to break one of his horns clean off against the spear; however, I stuck him in the spine and rolled him over.
The fawns are always spotted. The stags seem very irregular in shedding their horns, and deformed heads are not uncommon.
XXIV. SPOTTED DEER (Axis maculatus)
Native names: ‘Chital,’ ‘Chitra’; the Stag ‘Jhank’
About the beauty of the skin of this beast, the writer heard a story of a man who was taking such particular pains to preserve the hide of a stag he had shot that his companion asked him what he wanted it for, adding, ‘It’s only a chital.’ ‘Yes,’ returned the other, ‘it may be only a chital on the banks of the Nerbudda, but I am going to send it home, and it will be a leopard at Northampton.’
The horns are of the rusine type, but the brow antler has a more graceful forward curve than in the sambur, and the anterior terminal point is always longer than the posterior. Small false points are also frequently thrown out at the base of the brow antler.
Chital are often shot off elephants, but the sport is not to be compared to stalking them; and as chital always seem to select the loveliest scenery in the forest for their abode, a morning or evening stroll after them is most enjoyable, or, if the heat is too great to render a long walk pleasant, a shot may often be obtained in the evening by watching a glade where the young grass is springing up after a forest fire. There must, however, be water in the vicinity, as chital are rarely found at any great distance from it.
The peculiar call of the chital can be heard for a long distance, and is a common hunting signal among many jungle tribes. If a chital is heard repeatedly calling in one spot, it is generally a danger signal, and means that a tiger or panther is on foot.
Unlike hogdeer, chital often go in large herds, each herd being owned by one big stag, though there may be many smaller stags in it.
The horns are shed annually but very irregularly, stags without horns, in the velvet, and with matured horns, being often met with in the same day. This is attributable to the deer breeding all the year round instead of having a definite rutting season, the shedding of horns varying with the age of the stag. This is more noticeable in the forests along the foot of the Himalayas than in Central India, where, though still irregular, the bulk of the stags have their horns ripe in January and shed them about July.
Jerdon was of opinion that there were two species of spotted deer, the smaller of the two being found in Southern India; but Sterndale quotes McMaster to the effect that the spotted deer found in Orissa are more than usually large. As far as the writer has been able to judge, the stags in Central India have finer heads than those in the Doon and Terai.
When stalking in forest the sportsman should bear in mind that if he comes suddenly on game his best chance of avoiding detection is to stand motionless. If he attempts to crouch the movement will draw attention at once, whereas if he stands still, and his clothes are of the right colour, he may very likely be mistaken for the stump of a tree.
XXV. SWAMP DEER (Rucervus Duvaucelli)
Native names: ‘Gōn,’ ‘Gond,’ ‘Barasingha,’ ‘Maha’; in Central India, ‘Goen’ or ‘Goenjak’ (male); ‘Gaoni’ (female) (Sterndale)
This deer avoids heavy forest and is nearly always found in the swamps and open grassy plains near rivers. Colonel Erskine, the Commissioner of Kumaon, writes of it:
I have shot numbers of these deer, but all in the swampy Terai country in the north of Oudh bordering on Nepal, and in that part of the Pilibhit district on the same frontier. I have never heard of it much to the west of the Pilibhit district. I should think Haldwani, at the foot of the Naini Tal hill, was well beyond the western limit of the tracts which it frequents; it is found in the swamps and high grass on the edges of the swamps and rivers, and on the islands in the rivers, along the forest country at the foot of the Himalayas, from the places I have mentioned, eastwards as far as Assam and Bhotan, and along the Barhamputra river down to the Sunderbands of Bengal. It is also known in the Central Provinces near Mundla and along the tributaries of the Nerbudda.
Kinloch says that it used to be found on the islands in the Indus, but is now almost extinct there. By all accounts it seems to prefer the neighbourhood of Sál forest.
Rucervus Duvaucelli
The antlers of the swamp deer are peculiar. The beam is rather slender, the brow antler very long, there is no median tine, and at the top the head becomes almost palmated. The full-grown stag carries three antlers on the top, two of which (the outside antlers generally) are bifurcated equally, as if the antler had been split and bent outwards; each horn having thus six points, including the brow antler. Colonel Erskine says that he has never seen a head with more than fourteen tines, but Jerdon speaks of seventeen. In Schomburgk’s deer (an allied form found in Siam), all three prongs on the top are bifurcated. The difference between the two varieties is very noticeable in the British Museum, where the horns are placed side by side. Sterndale says that in Schomburgk’s deer the très and royal tines are equal, whilst in the swamp deer the très tine is longer than the royal.
Rucervus Schomburgkii
In the high grass of the Terai and Assam, swamp deer are generally shot off elephants, but in some parts of Central India the ground is open enough to permit of their being stalked. Forsyth gives a capital account of the sport he enjoyed while hunting them in the Sál forests of Central India. Swamp deer are gregarious, and Jerdon quotes from an article in ‘The Indian Sporting Review’ a case of three large herds being seen on one plain. The general colour of the beast is a light yellowish red, paler in the winter than in the summer; the under parts and below the tail are white. The hinds are lighter coloured than the stags, and the fawns are spotted. The stags appear to shed their horns about March or April, as, Forsyth says, they lose the velvet at the close of the rainy season; he also says that they shed their horns more regularly than the Rusinæ. The following quotation from his charming book gives an excellent account of their habits:
This animal has been called in North-Eastern India the ‘swamp deer,’ but here (Central India) he is not observed to be particularly partial to swampy ground. These deer graze in the mornings and evenings in the open valley, chiefly along the smaller streams, and by springs where the grass is green, and rest during the day about the skirts of the Sál forest. A favourite midday resort is in the shade of the clumps of Sál dotted about the open plain, at some distance from the heavy forest. They are not nearly so nocturnal in habits as the sámbar, being often found out grazing late in the forenoon, and again early in the afternoon; and I do not think they wander about all night like the sámbar. Their midday rest is usually of a few hours only, but during that time they conceal themselves in the grass much after the manner of the sámbar. I have never heard of their visiting cultivated tracts like the latter; nor can I learn that their apparent adherence to the Sál forest is due to their employing any part of that tree as food.