I have previously remarked that, in the opinion of Colonel Peyton, even the stanchest sportsman when on foot in the jungle, is liable to be startled by the sudden roar of a wounded tiger close at hand, and so much so as even to draw back for a pace or two, but he says that the effect is only momentary. In 1891 I again had an opportunity of observing the effects on myself and others of the roar of a wounded tiger in the jungle, but on this occasion, though I confess I was very considerably startled, and generally commoved for a moment, as I had expected to find the tiger dead, I did not step back a pace, nor did the stanchest of the natives who were with me, though a certain number climbed right up to the tops of trees. As it happened, there was, after all, no danger, for the tiger had been damaged in the back, and I soon dispatched it. The effect of the roar of a tiger is really very remarkable, and of this the animal itself seems to be well aware, for the tiger I have just alluded to--evidently an old hand, from the trouble he had given us and the cunning he had displayed--remained in the open, or came out into the open as the beaters approached, then roared at them and afterwards retreated into the jungle--a narrow ravine in which he seemed determined to remain, though shots were fired into it, and in which I think he would have remained had not the beaters charged into it in a body in the most plucky manner. A friend of mine also met with a similar instance, where a tiger came out--confronted the beaters and roared at them. The beaters may see the tiger, and quite close, and yet not be much disturbed, but a roar even a good way off has on them a disturbing effect, though it is difficult to see why the nerves should be affected more easily through the medium of the ears than the eyes. I may here mention that, when the sportsman has a damaged heart, the roar of a wounded tiger, at least if the shooter is on foot in the jungle, is apt to produce a slight flutter of that organ, though that, too, like the effect alluded to by Colonel Peyton, is momentary. Having had for some years a rather damaged heart, I was interested in experimenting as regards the effects of tigers on its action, but could come to no very distinct conclusion. I was once in an extremely insecure position on a conspicuous cleft of a bare tree, with my feet not more than seven or eight feet from the ground, when the tiger galloped into the arena as it were in the most sudden manner, and passed within fifteen feet of me. I knocked him over with a ball in the back at the second shot--the first, from the awkward position I was placed in, having either missed, or done him little harm. The tiger then lay on his side, with his head turned backwards and resting on his shoulder. He kept his eye on me, and I kept mine on him, and I did not fire again, as my second gun native (we had never expected the tiger to be where we found