A few months ago, from the date at which I am now writing, a native came to my camp with the intelligence that a large tiger had suddenly sprung from a densely wooded nullah and seized a cow that was grazing within a few yards of him. The man shouted in the hope of scaring the tiger, when two buffaloes who were near the spot and were spectators of the event at once charged the tiger at full speed, knocked it over by their onset, and followed it as it sprang for safety into the thick bush, thus saving the cow from certain destruction. The cow, badly lacerated about the throat, ran towards its native village, followed by its owner. I lost no time in arriving at the spot, about two miles from camp, and there I found the recent tracks precisely tallying with the description I had received. We organised a drive on the following morning, but the crestfallen tiger had taken the notice to quit, and had retreated from the neighbourhood. An example of this kind is sufficient to exhibit the cautious character of the tiger. My shikari, a man of long experience, differed in opinion with the native who had witnessed the attack. This man declared that the tiger must be lying in a dense thicket covering a deep hollow of about 10 acres, to which it had retreated when charged by the two buffaloes; he advised that we should lose no time, but organise a drive at once, as the tiger, having been frightened by the buffaloes, would probably depart from the locality during the night. My shikari argued against this suggestion. He was of opinion that the tiger might not be lying in the hollow, as there was much broken ground and jungle in the immediate neighbourhood, including many dense and deep nullahs that might have formed a retreat: if the tiger should happen to be within one of those places, it would be outside the drive, and would be frightened away by the noise of the beaters should we drive the hollow, and it would escape unseen. If, on the other hand, the tiger should be lying in any spot within a radius of half a mile, it would be very hungry, as proved by its attack upon the cow during broad daylight, and it would assuredly kill one or both of the baits, and remain with its prey, if we should tie up two young buffaloes that night; we should then be certain to have it within the drive on the following morning. This was sound reasoning, and according to rule; but the native argued that the tiger, having been knocked over and pounded by the buffaloes, would be so cowed that it would decline to attack the young buffaloes that might be secured to trees as baits; it would, on the contrary, avoid anything in the shape of a buffalo, and if we neglected to drive the jungle at once, we should find a blank upon the following morning. The sequel proved that the man was correct, as the buffaloes were untouched on the following day, and the tiger had disappeared from the locality.