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charmingly sympathetic harmony from the illused strings.

'I will never play again,' cried the young man. Yes, I will-to touch it where you have touched it. Oh, I think you can do everything, and make everything perfect you look at.'

'No!' said Constance, shaking her head as she ran the bow softly, so softly over the strings; for you are not perfect at all, though I have looked at you a great deal. Look! this is the way to do it. I am not going to accompany you any more. I am going to give you lessons. Take it now, and let me see you play that passage.Louder, softer-louder. Come, that was better.

the afternoon, to ask if she thought of making any expedition? to suggest that his mother wished very much to take him to see this or that, and had sent him to ask would Miss Waring come? Constance was generally quite willing to come, and not at all afraid to walk to the bungalow with him, where, perhaps, old Luca's carriage would be standing, to drive them along the dusty road to the opening of some valley, while Mrs Gaunt, not a good climber, she allowed, would sit and wait for them till they had explored the dell, or inspected the little town seated at its head. Captain Gaunt was more punctilious about his mother's presence as chaperon than Constance was, who felt quite at her ease roaming with him among the terraces of the olive woods. It was altogether so idyllic, so innocent, that there was no occasion for any conventional safeguards, and there was nobody to see them or remark upon the prolonged tête-à-tête. Constance came to 'A first-rate violin-player, then,' said Constance. know the young fellow far better than his mother 'But I don't think my power goes so high as that. did, better than he himself did, in these walks-Poor general, what does he say when you grind, and talks. as you call it, all the morning?'

'Miss Waring, don't laugh at a fellow. I know I deserve it. O yes, do, if you like. I had rather you laughed than closed the piano. I had a good long grind at it this morning; but somehow these triplets are more than I can fathom. Let us have that movement again, will you?-Oh, notif you are tired. As long as you'll let me sit and talk. I love music with all my heart, but I love'

'Chatter,' said Constance. 'I know you do. It is not a dignified word to apply to a gentleman; but you know, Captain Gaunt, you do love

to chatter.'

'Anything to please you,' said the young man. 'That wasn't how I intended to end my sentence. I love to-chatter, if you like, as long as you will listen-or play, or do anything; as long as'

"You must allow,' said Constance, 'that I listen admirably. I am thoroughly well up in all your subjects. I know the station as well as if I lived

I think I shall make something of you after all.'

'You can make anything of me,' said the poor young soldier, with his lips on the place her cheek had touched, 'whatever you please.'

'Oh, mother smooths him down-that is the use of a mother.'

'Is it?' said Constance, with an air of impartial inquiry. I didn't know.-Come, Captain Gaunt, we are losing all our time.'

And then tant bien que mal, the sonata was got through.

'I am glad Beethoven is dead,' said Constance as she closed the piano. 'He is safe from that at least: he can never hear us play. When you go home, Captain Gaunt, I advise you to take lodgings in some quite out-of-the-way place, about Russell Square, or Islington, or somewhere, and grind, as you call it, till you are had up as a nuisance; or else'

'Or else what, Miss Waring? Anything to please you.'

'Or else-give it up altogether,' Constance

said.

His face grew very long; he was very fond of there.' his violin. If you think it is so hopeless as that 'Don't say that,' he cried; 'it makes a man-if you wish me to give it up altogether'beside himself. Oh, if there was any chance that you might ever- I think I'm almost sureyou would like the society in India-it's so easy; everybody's so kind. A-a young couple, you know, as long as the lady is-delightful.'

'But I am not a young couple,' said Constance with a smile. 'You sometimes confuse your plurals in the funniest way. Is that Indian too? -Now come, Captain Gaunt, let us get on. Begin at the andante. One, two-three! Now, let's get on.'

And then a few bars would be played, and then she would turn sharp round upon the musicstool and take the violin out of his astonished

hands.

'Oh what a shriek!

It goes through and through one's head. Don't you think an instrument has feelings? That was a cry of the poor ill-used fiddle, that could bear no more. Give it to me.' She took the bow in her hands, and leaned the instrument tenderly against her shoulder. It should be played like this,' she said.

Miss Waring, you can play the violin too?' 'A little,' she said, leaning down her soft cheek against it, as if she loved it, and drawing a

'Oh, not I. It amuses me. I like to hear you break down. It would be quite a pity if you were to give up, you take my scolding so delightfully. Don't give it up as long as you are here, Captain Gaunt. After that, it doesn't matter what happens-to me.'

'No,' he said, almost with a groan, 'it doesn't matter what happens after that to me. It's the Deluge, you know,' said the poor young fellow. I wish the world would come to an end first' thus unconsciously echoing the poet. 'But, Miss Waring,' he added anxiously, coming a little closer, I may come back? Though must go to London, it is not necessary I should stay there. I may come back?'

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Oh, I hope so, Captain Gaunt. What would your mother do, if you did not come back? But I suppose she will be going away for the summer. Everybody leaves Bordighera in the summer, I hear.'

'I had not thought of that,' cried the young soldier. And you will be going too?'

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'I suppose so,' said Constance. Papa, I hope, is not so lost to every sense of duty as to let me spoil my complexion for ever by staying here.'

' Journal

, 1885.

'That would be impossible,' he said with eyes full of admiration.

'You intend that for a compliment, Captain Gaunt; but it is no compliment. It means either that I have no complexion to lose, or that I am one of those thick-skinned people who take no harm-neither of which is complimentary, nor true. I shall have to teach you how to pay compliments as well as how to play

the violin.'

'Ah, if you only would!' he cried. Teach me how to make myself what you like-how to speak, how to look, how'

Oh, that is a great deal too much,' she said. I cannot undertake all your education.-Do you know it is close upon noon? Unless you are going to stay to breakfast'

'Oh, thanks, Miss Waring! They will expect me at home. But you will give me a message to take back to my mother. I may come to fetch you to drive with her to-day?'

'It must be dreadfully dull work for her sitting waiting while we explore.'

'Oh, not at all. She is never dull when she knows I am enjoying myself--that's the mother's

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'It is very extraordinary that any one should like sitting in that carriage for hours with nothing to do.-I will come with pleasure, Captain Gaunt. I will sit with your mother while you go and take your walk. That will be more cheerful for all parties,' Constance said.

Young Gaunt's face grew half a mile long. He began to expostulate and explain; but Waring's step was heard stirring in the next room, approaching the door, and the young man had no desire to see the master of the house with his watch in his hand, demanding to know why Domenico was so late. Captain Gaunt knew very well why Domenico was so late. He knew a way of conciliating the servants, though he had not yet succeeded with the young mistress. He said hurriedly, 'I will come for you at three,' and rushed away. Waring came in at one door as Gaunt disappeared at the other. The delay of the breakfast was a practical matter, of which, without any reproach of medievalism, he had a right to complain.

'If you must have this young fellow every morning, he may at least go away in proper time,' he said, with his watch in his hand, as young Gaunt had divined.

O papa, twelve is striking loud enough. You need not produce your watch at the same

time.'

Then why have I to wait?' he said. There was something awful in his tone. But Domenico was equal to the occasion, worthy at once of the

At that moment,

lover's and of the father's trust. Captain Gaunt having been got away while the great bell of Bordighera was still sounding, the faithful Domenico threw open, perhaps with a little more sound than was necessary, an ostentation of readiness, the dining-room door.

The meal was a somewhat silent one. Perhaps Constance was pondering the looks which she had not been able to ignore, the words which she had managed to quench like so many fiery arrows before they could set fire to anything, of her eager lover, and was pale and a little preoccupied in spite of herself, feeling that things were going further than she intended; and perhaps her father, feeling the situation too serious, and remonstrance inevitable, was silenced by the thought of what he had to say. It is so difficult in such circumstances for two people, with no relief from any third party, without even the wholesome regard for the servant in attendance, which keeps the peace during many a family crisis-for with Domenico, who knew no English, they were as safe as when they were alone-it is very difficult to find subjects for conversation that will not lead direct to the very heart of the matter which is being postponed. Constance could not talk of her music, for Gaunt was associated with it. She could not speak of her walk, for he was her invariable companion. She could ask no questions about the neighbourhood, for was it not to make her acquainted with the neighbourhood that all those expeditions were being made? The great bouquet of anemones which blazed in the centre of the table came from Mrs Gaunt's garden. She began to think that she was buying her amusement too dearly. As for Waring, his mind was not so full of these references, but he was occupied by the thoughts of what he had to say to this headstrong girl, and by a strong sense that he was an ill-used man, in having such responsibilities thrust upon him against his will. Frances would not have led him into such difficulties. To Frances, young Gaunt would have been no more interesting than his father; or so at least this man, whose experience had taught him so little, was ready to believe.

'I want to say something to you, Constance,' he began at length, after Domenico had left the room. 'You must not stop my mouth by remarks about middle-aged parents. I am a middle-aged parent, so there is an end of it.-Are you going to marry George Gaunt?'

'I-going to marry George Gaunt! Papa!'

'You had better, I think,' said her father. 'It will save us all a great deal of embarrassment. I should not have recommended it, had I been consulted at the beginning. But you like to be independent and have your own way; and the best thing you can do is to marry. I don't know how your mother will take it; but so far as I am concerned, I think it would save everybody a great deal of trouble. You will be able to turn him round your finger; that will suit you, though the want of money may be in your way.'

I think you must mean to insult me, papa,' said Constance, who had grown crimson. "That is all nonsense, my dear. I am suggesting what seems the best thing in the circumstances, to set us all at our ease.'

'To get rid of me, you mean,' she cried.

'I have not taken any steps to get rid of you. I did not invite you, in the first place, you will remember; you came of your own will. But I was very willing to make the best of it. I let Frances go, who suited me, whom I had brought up-for your sake. All the rest has been your doing. Young Gaunt was never invited by me. I have had no hand in those rambles of yours. But since you find so much pleasure in his society'

'Papa!

You know I don't find pleasure in his society; you know'

"Then why do you seek it?' said Waring with that logic which is so cruel.

Constance, on the other side of the table, was as red as the anemones, and far more brilliant in the glow of passion. I have not sought it,' she cried. 'I have let him come-that is all. I have gone when Mrs Gaunt asked me. Must a girl marry any man that chooses to be silly? Can I help it, if he is so vain? It is only vanity,' she said, springing up from her chair, 'that makes men think a girl is always ready to marry. What should I marry for? If I had wanted to marryPapa, I don't want to be disagreeable, but it is vulgar, if you force me to say it-it is common to talk to me so.'

'I might retort,' said Waring.

'O yes, I know you might retort. It is common to amuse one's self. So is it common to breathe and move about, and like a little fun when you are young. I have no fun here. There is nobody to talk to, not a thing to do. How do you suppose I am to get on? How can I live without something to take up my time?'

'Then you must take the consequences.'

In spite of herself, Constance felt a shiver of alarm. She began to speak, then stopped suddenly, looked at him with a look of mingled defiance and terror, and-what was so unlike her, so common, so weak, as she felt-began to cry, notwithstanding all she could do to restrain herself. To hide this unaccountable weakness, she hastened off and hid herself in her room, making as if she had gone off in resentment. Better that, than that he should see her crying like any silly girl. All this had got on her nerves, she explained to herself afterwards. The consequences! Constance held her breath as they became dimly apparent to her in an atmosphere of horror. George Gaunt, no longer an eager lover, whom it was amusing, even exciting to draw on, to see just on the eve of a selfcommittal, which it was the greatest fun in the world to stop, before it went too far-but the master of her destinies, her constant and inseparable companion, from whom she could never get free, by whom she must not even say that she was bored to death-gracious powers! and with so many other attendant horrors. To go to India with him, to fall into the life of the station, to march with the regiment. Constance' lively imagination pictured a baggage-wagon, with herself on the top, which made her laugh. But the reality was not laughable; it was horrible. The consequences! No; she would not take the consequences. She would sit with Mrs Gaunt in the carriage, and let him take his walk by himself. She would begin to show him the extent of his mistake from that very day. To take any sharper measures, to refuse to go out

with him at all, she thought, on consideration, not necessary. The gentler measures first, which perhaps he might be wise enough to accept.

But if he did not accept them, what was Constance to do? She had run away from an impending catastrophe, to take refuge with her father. But with whom could she take refuge, if he continued to hold his present strain of argument? And unless he would go away of himself, how was she to shake off this young soldier! She did not want to shake him off; he was all the amusement she had. What was she to do?

There glanced across her mind for a moment a sort of desperate gleam of reflection from her father's words: 'You like to be independent; the best thing you can do is to marry.' There was a kind of truth in it, a sort of distorted truth, such as was likely enough to come through the medium of a mind so wholly at variance with established forms of truth. Independent-there was something in that; and India was full of novelty, amusing, a sort of world she had no experience of. A tremor of excitement got into her nerves as she heard the bell ring, and knew that he had come for her. He! the only individual who was at all interesting for the moment, whom she held in her hands, to do what she pleased with. She could turn him round her little finger, as her father said: and independence! Was it a Mephistopheles that was tempting her, or a good angel leading her the right way?

THE DANGERS OF THE INDIAN
JUNGLE.

THE accounts published from time to time by the government of India, showing the loss of life occasioned annually by snake-bites and the ravages of wild animals, still bear witness to a terrible mortality attributable to these scourges of our eastern possessions, and we might add, afford a clear proof that the present exertions of the government of India are inadequate for the purpose. The latest return published in the Gazette tells the truly awful tale, that in the year 1883 upwards of twenty-two thousand lives were lost from the above-mentioned causes. Nor can the returns rendered by district officers be considered as altogether complete or satisfactory, for, owing to the apathy of the natives of India and the almost universal belief among them of the 'decrees of fate,' many cases of death by snake-bite are never reported, and altogether escape the notice of the authorities. Then, again, it should be remembered that the government returns which give the number of deaths attributable to snakes and wild beasts, only include cases in British India, leaving altogether unrecorded the mortality from the same causes in large independent states, such as Jeypore, Gwalior, Rewah, and many others. Moreover, the British system of keeping down wild beasts and noxious reptiles does not obtain in these large tracts of territory under independent rajahs. There, natives are not encouraged by rewards to make the destruction of tigers, panthers, and others of the felida-as also cobras and other deadly snakes-a genuine pursuit and means of gaining a livelihood. Thus it comes to pass that in outof-the-way parts, away from our jurisdiction, the loss of life from the above-mentioned causes

Journal

shows little or no diminution, but remains very much as in the days of old before we acquired India.

snake, is immediately bitten, and probably before daylight, lies a corpse by the roadside.

The same reckless custom of passing after sunAmong the wild animals figuring in the list set through jungles inhabited by all kinds of as destructive to human life, the tiger naturally wild beasts, is, though in a less degree, a constant holds a prominent place; the deaths of no fewer source of danger, frequently ending in death. than nine hundred and eighty-five human beings It has already been remarked that the tiger, if are laid to his charge; and yet the animal, if left left unmolested, will seldom interfere with man, unmolested and not provoked in any way, will but more often, when disturbed in the daytime, seldom attack human beings. The truth is, will slink off with a surly growl of fear. This tigers, as a rule, are cowards, only too willing rule, however, certainly does not hold good with to slink away on the approach of man. In equal force after nightfall. Then wild animals former years speaking chiefly of our own ter- are all on the prowl after prey, and they seem ritories in British India-when tigers were much to be perfectly aware of the advantage they more common than they are nowadays, man- possess over human beings of a vision specially eaters were by no means rare. It was in those adapted by nature to penetrate the pitchy darktimes nothing uncommon to hear of high-roads ness of the night. Not only, therefore, is there stopped, large tracts of country left unculti- a greater probability of travellers meeting with vated, villages deserted, and permitted to fall dangerous animals when passing through the to ruin, owing to the ravages of these dreaded forest after sunset, but the tiger and his comrades creatures. Now, however, man-eaters have been of the jungle are then bolder and more to be nearly exterminated; occasionally one is heard feared; and though the tiger be a coward at of; but almost invariably his evil deeds attract heart, yet, under cover of darkness, and perhaps the attention of the civil officer of the dis- pinched with hunger, the sound of voices in the trict, and an organised expedition is sent in dead stillness of the night entices the brute to search of the marauder, and eventually the approach the roadway; and a string of defenceanimal is killed, either by the rifle of an English less natives, passing within a few yards of his sportsman, or by the matchlock of some local lurking-place, still further awakens his evil inshikarie. stincts. The temptation proves too great, and How, then, it will naturally be asked, if man-with a bound, he springs upon one of the hapless eaters are so rare, does it come to pass that travellers and carries off his shrieking victim. nearly a thousand unfortunate creatures lose their lives in a single year by tigers? In the first place, although man-eating tigers are now fortunately rare, yet there can be no doubt that the tiger when suddenly come upon in his lair, or met accidentally face to face when on the move, will, on the spur of the moment-more from fear, probably, than anything else-strike down any one barring his way, and pass swiftly on. Casualties of this kind often occur in wooded parts of the country. A tigress with young is especially dangerous, and will often furiously attack any one approaching the spot where the

cubs are.

We are told in the Gazette, that in the year 1883, no fewer than forty-seven thousand four hundred and seventy-eight head of cattle were devoured by wild animals; and there can be no doubt that the tiger is extremely mischievous in this respect, and in consequence lays a very severe tax on natives inhabiting villages bordering upon large forests or anywhere near to his stronghold. A pair of royal tigers will probably kill and devour from ten to twelve bullocks of large size within a month's time; and a tigress with two or three nearly full-grown cubs is still more destructive. The latter, not content with pulling down cattle for food, will often, out of pure mischief, destroy two and three at a time.

of

Again, cattle-keepers, or gwallas as they are termed in Bengal, often lose their lives by There are tigers which live almost entirely on courageously exposing themselves when endea- large game, such as deer and wild pigs, seldom vouring to rescue some one of their charges from approaching villages or the haunts of man; the clutches of the destroyer. At such times but, unfortunately, the great majority depend the tiger is especially dangerous. He has pro- almost entirely on cattle for food; and this is tably tasted blood, and often will not surrender not to be wondered at. The ruminants his prey without a struggle. Should a body of men keeping close together approach him as he crouches growling behind the bullock he has dragged to the ground, he will sometimes slowly and reluctantly beat a retreat; but often rendered furious by a shower of sticks and stones cast at him and by the shouts of his daring assailants, he charges out with flashing eye and a roar of rage, and strikes down one or more of his assailants.

A prevalent cause of death occasioned by anake-bites, &c., is the almost universal habit among the poorer classes of natives of travelling by night during the hot-weather months. It is exceptional to meet with a cobra during the daytime; but after sunset reptiles sally forth in search of food. A native, generally speaking, walks barefooted, or wears only a low shoe, which affords no protection to the ankle or leg. In the darkness, he treads upon or touches some deadly

the forest are timid, restless creatures, ever on the lookout against danger, so that it happens constantly that, in spite of the crafty, noiseless approach of their striped enemy, he is discovered ere he can creep to within springing distance. The tiger, however, is often more successful when lying in wait hard by some pool of water in the jungles. After a long hot day, towards nightfall, deer, parched with thirst, are often impatient to reach the precious water, and incautiously approach without perceiving their hidden enemy.

But the tiger soon discovers that he can provide himself with food with far less trouble and exertion by preying on cattle. Not only is stalking them an easy task when the herd is grazing on the outskirts of the jungle, but oftenunlike deer, which bound away almost immediately on discovering their lurking enemy-a

herd of cattle will stand spell-bound, paralysed with fear, their whole attention fixed upon the striped marauder grovelling along the ground and rapidly approaching to within springing distance. Then, when too late to make their escape, the foolish creatures turn to fly; but with a bound, the tiger is upon them, and seizing a victim in his terrible grip, brings it to the ground, and kills it with one wrench of his powerful jaws.

hundred yards of the houses. Since the time of the Indian Mutiny, when the country was disarmed, leopards have greatly increased in many parts, more especially in our hill territories. In former days, almost every village possessed two or three guns; now, however, only certain individuals bearing a license from the authorities carry firearms, and in consequence, wild animals are not sufficiently killed down.

The leopard is particularly addicted to carrying off dogs. The animal will seldom face a powerful dog in the open; but by creeping up unperceived and waiting for a favourable opportunity, it suddenly takes the dog at a disadvantage, fastening on to its neck, and seldom quitting its hold till the strength of its victim is exhausted. In spite of broad iron collars garnished with spikes for a protection, large-sized, valuable sheep-dogs are very often carried off by leopards in the valleys of the Himalaya.

The Asiatic lion, from certain characteristics, such as the almost total want of a mane in the male, and its smaller size, was formerly held to be of a different species from the lion of Africa; but naturalists are now inclined to consider the two animals identical. Little is known of the habits of the Indian lion, and except in Cutch, Guzerat, and one or two other spots in the Bombay presidency, it has become extremely rare. Sportsmen who have met with and shot the animal describe it as dangerous Included in our Indian carnivora are three when wounded and followed up; but, like the species of bears. Two of these, the brown and tiger, unless provoked, the Indian lion almost Himalayan black bear, are confined to our invariably endeavours to make off on being northern hill regions. The third species (Ursus disturbed. Nor does the animal appear to be labiatus) is only found in the plains of India, or nearly so bold and dangerous after nightfall, as rather in our lower ranges of hills, for it is found is the case with the African lion. A crouching in the Neilgherries of Madras. The last-named lion in long grass or bushes, even in compara- species never eats flesh, subsisting chiefly on wild tively bare open ground, is more difficult to dis- fruit, various roots, grain, termites, and honey; tinguish than the tiger, on account of the tawny but the two Himalayan species undoubtedly occahide exactly matching the colour of the surround-sionally kill sheep, goats, and cows, and devour ings. It may be here mentioned that it is a mis- the flesh. take to suppose that the male lion in its wild state carries the long flowing mane that we see in specimens shut up in cages. The lion often inhabits dense thorny thickets; and his mane, from constant combing' and wear and tear when passing through prickly bushes, becomes shortened in a measure, and wants the flowing luxuriance of hair so marked in our caged specimens. The Indian lion, though an inveterate cattle-killer like his striped brother, seldom, if ever, takes to devouring human beings.

A number of deaths are annually laid to the charge of the bear tribe. Woodcutters are often brought in terribly torn and disfigured. Sometimes individual cases occur when the bear attacks a man without the slightest provocation. A she-bear with cubs is perhaps more jealous of human beings approaching her young than any other quadruped. She will at such times furiously attack and pursue any one coming near to her whelps, often inflicting terrible wounds with her teeth and claws; but never, as we so constantly read, does she, on coming to close quarters, attempt to hug or squeeze a man in her powerful grasp.

The panther and leopard both in a great measure bear a similar character to the royal tiger; they seldom will attack man, unless provoked, driven to bay or wounded, when, like all Though in general nocturnal, all three species the larger felidæ, they become highly dangerous, of the Indian bear will sometimes be met with and lives are often lost in their pursuit on foot. in the daytime, more especially during the rainy Instances now and again occur of both these season, when the grass and jungle grow thick animals showing unusual ferocity and taking to and matted. At such times, in out-of-the-way man-killing; but fortunately this habit is excep- spots where the forest remains undisturbed, the tional. The panther of Central India-a large Himalayan black bear will be met with searchpowerful beast is held to be, by many experi-ing for acorns below clumps of oak-trees, or enced sportsmen, as also by native hunters, a more dangerous animal to cope with than the tiger; and both panther and leopard ascend trees with facility, a power fortunately denied to the tiger.

Not many years ago, an officer seated in a tree in company with a native fired at a panther passing below, wounding the creature severely. The panther sprang up the stem of the tree, dragged the unfortunate sportsman down to the ground, mauling him so dreadfully that he died soon after; and then actually ascended the tree a second time and killed the shikarie.

The panther, like the tiger, is direfully mischievous in killing cattle; and the leopard continually harries the flocks and herds of the villagers, often taking up its abode within a few

amidst the branches gathering the fruit; and just before nightfall, a black shuffling object will sometimes be met with on the public road. But, as a rule, if left alone, a bear will seldom molest a human being.

One other animal of the carnivora, the 'Bhériá' or 'Indian wolf,' has to be noted to complete the list, and this animal justly carries a bad reputation for destroying life. There is something peculiarly horrible in the character of the Indian wolf. He hardly ever will face a man or a woman, but makes children his chief prey.

In some of our northern provinces, more especially Oude and parts of Rohilkund, as also throughout the north-western provinces of Bengal, the loss of life from wolves is terribly great. Unlike the larger felida,

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