Never mind the thorns!" shouted Mansfield, laughing till he nearly fell from his horse, as the worthy Doctor, in the excitement of the moment, dashed through brake and briar in hot pursuit of the wounded snake.

Charles, who had never before seen a boa, was quite as anxious as the Doctor to secure the prize. Throwing the reins of his horse to Mansfield he sprang to the ground, and joined in the chase, shouting aloud, and brandishing a hog-spear which he happened to carry in his hand.

In this manner they followed the snake for some distance, the Doctor pounding away with the butt-end of the rifle, and Charles striving in vain to transfix him with his spear. At length the snake reached the brink of a dry water-course filled with dense tangled brushwood, into which he glided. He was just about to disappear, when the Doctor, inspired with a desperate fit of courage, dashed forward, seized him by the tail, took a turn of it round his arm, and throwing himself on his back, with his feet firmly planted against a tree, held on like grim death.

Luckily for the Doctor, the snake was too much disgusted with the treatment he had already received, or too intent upon making his escape, to think of turning on his pursuers. But his struggles were tremendous. He coiled himself round the trees, twisted himself into knots, and strained every muscle in his body till they were ready to burst through his skin. So great was his strength, notwithstanding the severe wounds he had received, that it appeared, once or twice, as if the tail must give way or the Doctor's arms be torn from their sockets.

Whilst this struggle was going on, Charles was busily employed in reloading the rifle.

"Haste you, man! haste you!" gasped the Doctor, nearly black in the face from over-exertion. "Ods my life, Maister Charles, if ye dinna be quick and gie him another shot, he'll waur us at the hin'er end. He's amaist pou't the airms aff me already. Deil be licket, but I'm thinkin' it's the foul Fiend himsel', in his

auld disguise, that we hae grippet. Div ye no find nae smell o' brimstone about him?"

"I rather fancy I do," replied Charles, laughing, as he discharged both barrels into the snake.

Blood gushed copiously from the wounds, and the strength of the snake was perceptibly diminished. He suddenly uncoiled himself from the trees, and turned round, as if with the intention of making an attack. Charles, snatching up the spear, drove it through his head, and pinned him to the ground.

"Hold on now, Doctor," cried he, leaning his whole weight upon the spear to prevent its being withdrawn; "keep his tail fast, so that he may not get a purchase round a tree, and we have him."

The snake writhed about convulsively, but he was now completely paralysed-his strength was gone. In a few minutes the victory was complete; and Charles and the Doctor returned to the road, dragging along their snake in triumph.

"Bravo, Medico! Welcome the conquering hero! So you've managed to hustle him at last." And Mansfield laughed heartily as the Doctor emerged from the jungle in a perfect fever of heat and excitement, his face laced with streaks of blood, which flowed from innumerable scratches, and his coat literally torn to shreds. "But I see you have not obtained a bloodless victory. Hang it, Doctor, you have utterly ruined your beauty. You will not be able to show that handsome face of yours among the women for a month to come."

if

"Ay, I'm thinkin I've scarted mysel' a wee," replied the Doctor, wiping the blood and perspiration from his face with the sleeve of his coat. "But they're honourable wounds, Captain. O! man, had seen the grand tulzie we had wi' the rampawgin deevle, it wad just hae putten ye clean out o' conceit wi' tigre huntin. It was the sarest job that ever I put my hand till. But, O! Captain, it was grand sport."

ye

"I have no doubt it was a very brilliant piece of shikar,"

G

replied Mansfield, smiling. "But what do you intend to do with your game, now that you have secured it ?"

"Do wi' it! Od, man, I'll take him hame, surely. Na,I canna do that either, he's o'er heavy. But I'll just skin him where he is, and take the skin wi' me."

"No, no, my friend; we can't afford time for that now, the sun is just setting. But, as we are only five miles from camp, you can easily send out to-morrow morning and have him carried home."

The Doctor was reluctantly obliged to agree to this arrangement, and having carefully concealed the snake, and marked a tree to enable him to recognise the spot, the party proceeded.

Daylight had deserted them before they reached the end of their journey. But the full moon had risen, and shed a flood of silver light over the picturesque jungle encampment, which rejoiced the sight of our wearied travellers, as a sudden opening amongst the trees brought them upon a beautiful natural lawn of velvet turf embosomed in lofty woods, and sloping gently towards the bank of a deep and broad river studded with numerous wooded islands. The snow-white tents, glittering in the moonlight, the bullocks and baggage ponies picketed under the trees, the numerous fires, and the groupes of natives squatted round them, with their dusky features and picturesque dresses, brought out in strong relief by the reflection of the flame, formed altogether a very striking picture, and lent an air of home and comfort to the uninhabited forest.

Our party were quickly seated in the principal tent, around a camp-table sparkling with wax-lights, and groaning under a profusion of goodly viands,―amongst which a huge venison pasty, and a wild boar's head, shone conspicuous. Good store of claret was there also,-ruby bright, cold as the mountain spring. And the worthy Doctor's heart leapt for joy, whilst his mouth watered at beholding the unexpected luxury and good living afforded by an Indian sportsman's camp.

Ample justice was done to the feast, and after a moderate allowance of wine,-for Mansfield, like all good sportsmen, was temperate himself and the cause of temperance in others,—our friends retired to rest, prepared to start at daylight on the morrow, with clear heads and well-braced nerves,-two things as necessary to insure success to the forester as a quick eye and a true rifle.

CHAPTER VII.

BISON SHOOTING.

E left our jungle encampment glittering in the moon-light. The moon hath now set, and the forest is shrouded in darkness; but a slight tinge of grey in the eastern sky, and a damp chill in the morning air, announce that daylight is at hand. The distant roar of the prowling tiger, which, at intervals, "had vexed the dull ear of night," is no longer heard, and the silence of the woods is un

broken, save by the melancholy voice of the great horned owl, as he flits past, on muffled wing, like an evil spirit retiring before the approach of day. Heavy wreaths of grey mist slumber on the calm surface of the river, and all nature is hushed in deep repose. The horses, picketed in front of their master's tents, stand dull and listless, with drooping heads and slouched ears. And the wearied bullocks may be seen reposing in groups, under the shelter of the lofty banyan trees. The only beings which appear possessed of life in the midst of this dreamy scene, are two dusky figures which are brought out in strong relief by the cheerful blaze of a wood fire, over which they are crouching. One is our friend Heels, who, carefully wrapped up in his dark cumbley, is busied