There is one place in Mindoro called Canturai, where tamarau may be taken with comparative ease. It was described to me, in Spanish days, as an extensive open area with a conical hill near its centre, and I was told that by burning the grass and sleeping on the hill one could readily get early morning shots at tamarau which came out to lick up the ashes. But various other stories had also been told me, and one and all had proved false. I had dug pitfalls for the wary beasts in vain. I had perched in trees, devoured by mosquitoes, and with hard branches cutting into my flesh, waiting for some pugnacious bull to come out and fight a tame carabao fastened at a convenient distance from my hiding place, all to no purpose. Under such conditions a tamarau once came and bellowed around in the bushes, but did not show himself. I had heard tales of men who rode tamarau down on horseback and lanced them, and these yarns I knew to be false. So I never took the trouble to look up the Canturai story, worse luck, for it proved to be true. American soldiers occupied Mindoro for years before one of them succeeded in killing a tamarau. Finally a party of officers went to Canturai and the first morning they shot seven! Various other persons who have since gone there have had extraordinary luck, although several have narrowly escaped being killed, owing to their folly in following wounded animals into the cógon grass. A tamarau pursued under such circumstances will almost invariably back off at right angles to its own trail, wait for its pursuers to come up, and charge them, giving them no time to fire. Young calves are as wild as their parents, and I am credibly informed will often endeavour to attack female carabaos if an attempt is made to get them to regard these animals in the light of foster mothers. It is a curious fact that calves, and in fact young animals up to a year or more of age, are of a light reddish colour closely resembling that of some Jersey cattle. Their coats turn dark later on. Their horns, too, are at first circular in cross-section. Later they become triangular. When pursued, tamarau cows have a curious fashion of passing their heads under their calves, raising them with the horns pressed down in such a way as to hold them against their necks, with forelegs hanging on one side and hindlegs on the other, and running with them. All in all, they are very interesting beasts, and we still have much to learn about them. The man who attempts to hunt them with anything but a heavy and thoroughly reliable rifle is a fool.