I thanked him; and two o’clock found me receiving the commiserations of the two fair ladies, while they pressed upon me the usual profuse hospitality of an Indian luncheon. We had reached the dessert stage, and Mrs Castleton was just pressing me to taste some specially delicious plantains which a neighbouring rajah had sent her the day before, when the bearer came in, and making a salaam, said to Castleton: ‘A man has just come from that little hamlet of Goree; he wants the sahib log to go out and shoot a leopard which has just killed one of his kids, and is now lying eating it in a small patch of jungle. Goree is only a mile and a half from here.’ We stared blankly at each other. ‘What can we do?’ said Castleton. ‘Do? Why, go and shoot it, of course!’ exclaimed the enthusiastic Miss Jervoise. ‘But, Kate dear,’ broke in Mrs Castleton with wifely solicitude, ‘the elephants are all away, and how can they shoot it?’ ‘Oh, I am not thinking about the elephants,’ replied Castleton; ‘but Watson and I have lent all our rifles and guns, and we haven’t a single thing of any kind left.’ ‘There are the sepoys’ rifles,’ I suggested. ‘We could take one of them apiece; and, you know, we can’t let the leopard get off without having a try for him. Can we?’ ‘Yes, there are the sepoys’ rifles, certainly,’ replied Castleton rather doubtfully; ‘but’—— ‘And I have got a couple of spears,’ I interrupted. ‘Oh, do let us go at once, before he is disturbed.’ ‘Well—all right; we’ll try it,’ said Castleton hesitatingly. I lost no time in running home and changing into a shooting costume. Castleton sent his orderly off to the lines for our weapons; and by the time I had returned with the spears, the orderly reappeared with a couple of rifles and a packet of cartridges. So, a very short time saw us mounted on our horses and following our guide out to the little village of Goree. ‘I am not very sure about the wisdom of this business,’ said Castleton. ‘Oh, it will be all right,’ I replied. ‘We must be careful not to fire until we are pretty sure to kill—that’s all.’ ‘Hm, yes, I suppose so,’ assented my comrade somewhat doubtfully. As a matter of fact, it was not an overwise business. Our regiment was armed in those days with the short two-grooved Brunswick rifle, a muzzle loader, of course, and one in which the bullet had to be hammered into the muzzle with a small wooden hammer carried for the purpose, before it could be rammed down with the ramrod. This rendered the process of loading so dreadfully slow that practically it would make it quite impossible for either of us to get more than one shot, and it is no easy matter to kill a leopard with one bullet, however well placed. If he were not killed, he would be pretty certain to charge, and we should be in an awkward plight.