It was most exciting while it lasted, but, after all, I do not think it
was honest sport. The only apology I could make to myself was, that the
deer and pig were far too numerous, and doing immense damage to the
crops, and if not thinned out, they would soon have made the growing of
any crop whatever an impossibility.

The monkey being a sacred animal, is never molested by the natives, and
the damage he does in a night to a crop of wheat or barley is
astonishing. Peafowl too are very destructive, and what with these and
the ravages of pig, deer, hares, and other plunderers, the poor ryot
has to watch many a weary night, to secure any return from his fields.

On rejoining each other at the nets, we found that five deer and two
pigs had been killed. Pat had shot a boar and a porcupine, the latter
with No. 4 shot. H. accounted for a deer, and I got my buck and the
boar which I had wounded in the chest; Mehrman Singh had followed him
up and tracked him to the river, where he took refuge among some long
swamp reeds. Replying to his call, we went up, and a shot through the
head settled the old boar for ever. Our bag was therefore for the first
beat, seven deer, four pigs, and a porcupine.

The coolies were now sent away out of the jungle, and on ahead for a
mile or so, the nets were coiled up, our ponies regained, and off we
set, to take another station. As we went along the river bank,
frequently having to force our way through thick jungle, we started 'no
end' of peafowl, and getting down we soon added a couple to the bag.
Pat got a fine jack snipe, and I shot a _Jheela_, a very fine waterfowl
with brown plumage, having a strong metallic, coppery lustre on the
back, and a steely dark blue breast. The plumage was very thick and
glossy, and it proved afterwards to be excellent eating.