by a well-directed shot put him finally _hors de combat_, and had the satisfaction of carrying him into the station in triumph, where his skin is preserved as a witness of this strange Tiger-hunt. The Elephant, though it got one nasty bite, and was badly scratched about the trunk and fore-legs, is now none the worse for its single combat with the monarch of the Indian forests.” We mentioned above that the Tiger rarely attacks man unless provoked. When, however, he is hard pressed for a meal, he will often visit inhabited spots, and then is as likely to choose human as bovine food. Imagine the sensation likely to arise in a small village, inhabited only by a few unarmed, or at least but poorly armed men, with their wives and children, by such an occurrence as the following, related by an English traveller:-- “On the 11th of November of the same year I chanced to meet a Tiger myself. I was on the shore of the mainland opposite Amoy, in the afternoon, looking out for small birds, in company with a friend. I carried a gun, but had only small shot and one cartridge. Some villagers came running to us crying ‘Go and shoot the Tiger!’ I thought they were making game of us, until some of them assured us that there really was a Tiger in a neighbouring village, and that they would be much obliged if we would kill it. They led us to a village at the foot of a hill near the shore, where we found men, women, and children huddled outside in great alarm. Many of the men were armed with matchlocks. They desired us to take off our boots, and one of the men guided us over the roofs of the houses to the last house near the hill, and, pointing to a large rock, he made us listen. We could distinctly hear growls, and peering over I saw the lips and feet of the Tiger under the overhanging rock. The house on which we stood presented a wall facing the rock, and about two yards distant. We went inside, and I persuaded the owner to make a hole in the wall. I had no means of drawing the charge of my gun, so I rammed down a cartridge on the top of the small shot in one barrel, and a few hollow buttons into the other. In the hurry and excitement no bullets or iron nails were forthcoming. The Tiger noticed the hole in the wall, but only growled. I fired the button barrel first, aimed at its neck, but he only answered by a growl, and I saw that the buttons had done no more than turn up the skin without penetrating. His jaw was full towards me, and I gave him the cartridge right between his eyes. He gave a furious roar, and bounded into the garden, where he stood for some seconds bleeding from the nose, and with his tongue lolling from his mouth. I had no more cartridges with me, so I loaded again with the metal-edged buttons which the villagers tore off their coats for me. The Tiger had moved away, and I tracked him by his blood into a dilapidated temple. I looked in at the window, and there stretched beside a coffin sat the noble beast.