Ha! listen! there's a crack among the branches, and out rushes a noble stag. Bang goes G.'s gun. We had agreed that he should have the first shot. He's down! "Hush! here's something else in this patch of jungle." "Where?" he whispers, as he loads. "There, I see it now: look out; here it comes!" And sure enough out rushed seven pigs, followed almost immediately by three others. Now a wild boar is a most awkward animal to fight on foot, and we had agreed we should not fire at them. However, they rushed right towards us. What's to be done? "Get on the elephant," says G. "No time," said I; "follow me:" and we both fairly turned tail, pursued by a herd of pigs until we came to a bush, or rather a patch of bushes, round which we could make a short turn to escape them, and then back to our own station, laughing as hard as we could. But really a wild boar is no laughing matter as he rushes along tearing up the earth. If he charges, as he almost invariably does, with one movement of his head he could cut both legs to the bone, dividing the arteries, and probably killing the man. Presently a young stag rushed into one of the bags with such force as to break both his horns close off. There we found him when we examined the nets. We were sitting watching for what should come next, when G., raising his finger, whispered to me, "What's that down there in the plain? That's a deer: no, it can't be: do you see how it slouches along? Depend upon it it's not a deer." "Well, at any rate it's coming this way; we shall soon get a look at it." Another pause of half a minute and the beast was concealed in a little patch of jungle a few hundred yards from us. I now had time to examine it. "I'll tell you what, G.; that brute's a regular tiger." "Well, so I thought, but I hardly liked to say so: what shall we do if he comes this way?" "I say keep close where we are." "But suppose he should make a spring over the hedge in front of us?" "Lie flat down, and let him go over us: yet I think I could hardly resist having a shot while he was in the air." "Oh! pray don't fire; what in the world could we two do on foot against a wounded tiger?" However, our fears were needless: as the beaters advanced, the animal slunk away into a more distant piece of jungle, and we saw no more of him. Two of our people were rather hurt to-day--one by a deer leaping over him, and cutting his head with his hoof; a rupee, however, made him quite happy again: the other was a man who, as a large stag rushed past, made a spring at its horns, thinking to pull it down, whereby he got severe fall and prevented us from firing. Pooree, April 26, 1845. [Sidenote: FATAL ILLNESS OF AUTHOR.]