fall faintly at intervals on the ear, his keen hearing detects the
light patter of hoof or paw on the crisp, withered leaves. His
hawk-like glance can pick out from the deepest shade the sleek coat or
hide of the leopard or the deer; and even before the animal has come in
sight, his senses tell him whether it is young or old, whether it is
alarmed, or walking in blind confidence. In fact, I have known a good
shekarry tell you exactly what animal is coming, whether bear, leopard,
fox, deer, pig, or monkey.

The best shekarry I ever had was a Nepaulee called 'Mehrman Singh.' He
had the regular Tartar physiognomy of the Nepaulese. Small, oblique,
twinkling eyes, high cheekbones, flattish nose, and scanty moustache.
He was a tall, wiry man, with a remarkably light springy step, a bold
erect carriage, and was altogether a fine, manly, independent fellow.
He had none of the fawning obsequiousness which is so common to the
Hindoo, but was a merry laughing fellow, with a keen love of sport and
a great appreciation of humour. His gun was fearfully and wonderfully
made. It was a long, heavy flint gun, with a tremendously heavy barrel,
and the stock all splices and splinters, tied in places with bits of
string. I would rather not have been in the immediate vicinity of the
weapon when he fired it, and yet he contrived to do some good shooting
with it.

He was wonderfully patient in stalking an animal or waiting for its
near approach, as he never ventured on a long shot, and did not
understand our objection to pot-shooting. His shot was composed of
jagged little bits of iron, chipped from an old _kunthee_, or
cooking-pot; and his powder was truly unique, being like lumps of
charcoal, about the size of small raisins. A shekarry fills about four
or five fingers' depth of this into his gun, then a handful of old