"I think so, for I never saw her again. I was afraid to go back where the men labored, and, as I had said, there were no Bullocks, and I nearly starved to death."
"But how did they catch you?" queried Magh.
"It was all because of my hunger. When I was not stronger than a jungle Bakri (sheep), not having eaten for days and days, I heard one night a Pariah Dog howling in the jungle. It took me hours to know that there was no danger near this crying one of the Dog-kind. I went round and round in circles that I had made smaller each time, and drew the wind from all sides into my nose to see if there was the Man scent. There was nothing but the Pariah, and by some means he had got into a hole. Of course, afterwards I knew it was the evil work of this Sahib who had killed Baghni. Such a hole the Pariah was in, it was as long as these two cages, and though wide at the bottom, it was small at the top, even like the cover of Magh's house yonder. I crawled in and caught the Dog in my strong jaws. Sweet flesh! how he howled when he knew I was coming.
"Then with a crash something fell behind me, and closed the hole so I could not get out, and at once I heard them shouting."
"Where had they come from so soon?" queried Magh.
"They were up in the jungle trees," answered Bagh.
"I think it is a fine lie," grunted Boar. "Do you mean to say, Bagh, that you could not see them in the trees?"
"You have little knowledge of my kind, Piggy. Know you not that when going through the jungle we never look up?"
"I do," interrupted Raj Bagh, "but I learned the trick. Brother Bagh is right, though; I suppose it comes from always looking for our kill on the ground, and I have heard that this is why the Hunters so often kill us from Machans (shooting rest in a tree). We never see them until we are struck."
"The Men were all about the hole," continued Bagh, "and it was he of the white face that cried, 'Don't kill him, don't stick him with the spears! He is only a Baghela, and we will take him alive for Sa'-zada.'