But females
of the deer tribe are sacred to the sportsman; and the hunter passed on.
Half a mile farther on, in the deepest shadow of the undergrowth, he saw
something darker still. It was the dull black hide of a _sambhur_ stag, a
fine beast fourteen hands high, with sharp brow antlers and thick horns
branching into double points. Knowing the value of motionlessness as a
concealment the animal never moved; and only an eye trained to the jungle
would have detected it. Dermot noted it, but let it remain unscathed; for
he knew well the exceeding toughness of its flesh. What he sought was a
_kakur_, or barking deer, a much smaller but infinitely more palatable
beast.
Hours passed; and he and Badshah had wandered for miles without finding
what he wanted. He looked at his watch; for the sun was invisible. It was
nearly noon. In a space free from undergrowth he halted the elephant and,
patting the skull with his open hand, said:
"_Buth!_"
Badshah at the word sank slowly down until he rested on his breast and
belly with fore and hind legs stuck out stiffly along the ground. Dermot
slipped off his neck and stretched his cramped limbs; for sitting long
upright on an elephant without any support to the back is tiring. Then
he reclined under a tree with his loaded rifle beside him--for the
peaceful-seeming forest has its dangers.
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