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88 he could just make out, In the dim starlight, a huge striped animal! Raising his Express rifle to his shoulder, he shut both eyes and fired both barrels. There was a terrible roar, or bellow, or bleat, and the sound of an animal falling and struggling on the ground. A moment later, there was a sound of more than one animal struggling on the ground, for the good M.P., in his excitement, had leant too far over the edge of the machan and, perhaps helped a little by the wily shikari, had come down without using the ladder. Likewise the shikari, who with a cry of 'Run Sahib; run,' landed on the gentleman's stomach in a manner which in no way helped. Knowing the unwisdom of dallying around among wounded tigers (and Heaven alone knew how many there were by now), the Traveller took the tip as quickly as he could, and did his record travel for the dâk-bungalow, guided by his faithful follower—who followed in front of course. After a stiff brandy and soda, the good gentleman sat him down to wait for dawn, by which time he had written a full account for the Crumpington Courier of his