Most men own to being a little chary about elephant hunting I found, but our friend the Policeman appeared to have shot them like snipe. At first I was rather inclined to make light of elephant shooting, they are such exceedingly large animals that I thought even I could hardly fail to bag one if I got him broadside on; but the Policeman set me right on that point.
From his explanation, I gathered that the elephant is invulnerable save only in one vital part, a spot behind the ear, and the sportsman (according to my narrator) must be as dead on that spot as "Homocea."
My informant also told me terrible stories of how the elephant will turn on his pursuer and trample on him, or tear him in pieces with his tusks, and he gave me further such blood-curdling descriptions of the terrifying noise made by an approaching herd of elephants crashing through the jungle, and trumpeting in their rage, that I felt devoutly thankful that I was visiting this particular district. The wild elephants of the neighbouring jungle, in their almost human intelligence, recognised the danger to themselves of conduct other than the most retiring and unprovocative character in a locality where the peace was preserved by such an ever threatening Nemesis as our Policeman.
Bears, too, our Policeman had frequently hunted, and many a hair-breadth escape had he effected by running up hill (bears cannot run up hill, you know), or swinging from tree to tree and performing other acrobatic feats which the bear was too heavy to attempt with success.
On one occasion, he said he had been overtaken by the bear, and his left arm chawed in fourteen places (I forget why the bear couldn't be content with one spot and how he protected himself from the animal's further attentions); but he didn't mind the bear so much as the well meant efforts of his companion, who, the hero of the episode complained, stood afar off and poured in a devastating fire, directed in a distracted and indiscriminate manner at him and the bear alike. Many and varied indeed were the dangers through which this seemingly fearless hunter had passed unscathed.
Several tigers visited the neighbourhood during my visit, and caused great excitement among the men at the Club, who thought nothing of sitting up all night in an uncomfortable tree, over an unsightly "kill," in hope of compassing the animal's undoing.
Often, alas! they were doomed to disappointment. On one occasion when my brother and a friend were awaiting a tiger's approach, a mist gathered round them, effectually obscuring everything from their sight. So there they were, obliged, perforce, to sit in darkness, not daring to descend, and of course unable to see, and cheered by listening to the tiger comfortably devouring its prey, within a few yards of their ambush. The Engineer, when he heard this story was for patenting an electric flash light, which could be turned on to light the Sportsman when the tiger was comfortably settled down to his meal, but this original suggestion was ungratefully rejected, much to his disappointment.
But one afternoon the Thugyi brought in word that a large tiger had been marked down in the neighbouring jungle, and a beat was arranged for the following day. Then it was that the Policeman earned our undying gratitude by proposing that we ladies, who had been behaving of late in an exemplary manner, should, for once, be allowed to accompany the Sportsmen, to see the great sight of our lives, a tiger shoot.
I doubt whether the suggestion met with the entire approbation of the other males, but as the Policeman was organising the beat, and as we all promised to be very good and obedient, they agreed reluctantly to take us. Women, perhaps naturally, are considered very much "de trop" on these occasions. A tiger shoot is a serious, sometimes a dangerous business, and female frivolities and nerves would decidedly be embarrassments.