Matters did not look much more encouraging when we reached Goree. The _khubber_ was good enough: there was the place where the kid had been struck, and there were the drops of blood and footprints of a large leopard leading into a patch of dense cane-jungle about one hundred yards long and sixty yards broad, and we had very little doubt that he was in there, sure enough. We arranged, somewhat rashly, that we would enter the jungle from nearly opposite ends of the patch and work towards the centre. If either of us saw the leopard, we were, if possible, first to whistle and then to call out before shooting. We did this with a double object—first, that we might not shoot each other; and secondly, that if one of us wounded the beast and he came towards the other, we might be on the lookout for him, and not be taken unawares. So we separated; and I cautiously entered the left end of the patch, while Castleton made his entrance on the right. My end of the jungle was thicker than Castleton’s; but the edge was fairly clear, and by peering under the brake, I could see four or five yards in front of me. Very soon, the cane and bushes became so dense that I had to clear away the leaves with one hand while I held the rifle ready cocked in the other. We had each a sepoy accompanying us and carrying our second weapon, the spear. To my man I gave instructions that the moment I fired, I would hand him back the rifle, and he was to give me the spear. Of course I kept him behind me, so that he should be in no danger. We had not begun our advance more than two or three minutes, and had not penetrated, at our slow and cautious pace, more than about twenty yards, when Castleton whistled. I at once stood still. After a slight pause, he called out in a sort of stage whisper: ‘I see him; but it’s a nasty shot. I can only see his hind-quarters, and there is a lot of jungle in the way. Shall I shoot?’ ‘Fire away,’ I replied, in an equally melodramatic tone, heartily wishing that his chance had been mine. In about half a minute the report of Castleton’s rifle rang out. It was followed by an angry roar somewhere from my right front, and there was a dead silence. The smoke from Castleton’s rifle came floating over my head; but though I listened intently with my rifle half raised to my shoulder, not the sound of a footstep or the cracking of a twig could I hear. At last Castleton called out: ‘I’ve hit him, but not badly, I think; and he has gone off in your direction.’