Punch: Punch (70.1876)

February 19, 1876.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 61

"OUR REPRESENTATIVE" IN INDIA.

{True, full, and Particular Account of a Great Tiger Hunt, showing " How it

is done.'1'')

ear Sir,

I shall give
it all up. I won't
play any more. I
shall chuck up the
Sponge, and return.
I've had a row with
Sir Jak Holkar—
the Holkar — who
can't stand a joke.
The Holkar is not
a Jokar. He will
wear a European
hat, which doesn't
suit his native Tog-
garee (civilian's cos-
tume on ordinary
occasions), and so
at Jeypore I got a
lot of little Tattees
(a sort of native
street-hoy) to run
after him, and
shout, "Who's
your Mahr-hatta? "

He was wild, and came to complain to my Noble and Princely Companion. I
could not help overhearing their conversation, as they were in the next room to
me, which Levah Dorajah, our head Butler, had just quitted, forgetting, as
he invariably does, fermer la porte behind him. You know the proverb about
listeners ? Well, I was obliged to step in and have it out with the Holkar, who
finished by weeping copiously. But—my JYoble Friend was short with me.
For the first time—and mind you—for the last. We made it up before dinner
over a glass of Chowrie (a kind of barley-water, with slices of Indian pickle in
it, served like cup), and a fragrant Haremzadah (something between a ' Pick-
wick ' and a ' Vevey Fin') out of my own private cigar-case.*

When this cloud had cleared off, my Noble Sportsman wanted to have a shot
at a tiger,'in fact, to see some real fun, with a spice of danger in it. The truth
is, he had been excited by,! my accounts of how in former years (Ah! how
little did I then think I should revisit the scenes of my youth in such distin-
guished company) I had traced the monarch of the forest to his lair, had
wrestled; with him single-handed in the jungle, had given him his coup de
grace all among the pampas, and how, armed only with a Musnud (a kind of
light walking-canet), I had tickled a tiger like a trout, till I bagged him.

" Mon Prince," said I, for he wouldn't be gainsaid, " you shall have your
tiger."

B-r-sf-rd, C-r-gt-n, W. H. E-ss-ll, S-th-rl-nd, and all of 'em, came
up to me.

" Don't let him risk anything !" they cried.

" Leave it to me," I replied, and then I gave them my plan. It was simple,
and succeeded to admiration. I got a fine bullock, had him killed, steeped, in
rum, and then drove out into the jungle. Sure enough, true to his unerring
instinct, the finest Bengal tiger I have ever seen came bounding up to where
the carcase lay, with myself concealed in the high grass behind it. The
splendid],beast made a dinner for a month off the dainty provided for him,
and, of course, the rum utterly fuddled him. When he was sufficiently far
gone.to render all chance of his going any farther highly problematical, I slipt
my lasso round his neck, led him quietly down the hill, and tied him up in a
large old forty-gallon cask, which I had taken the precaution to have placed
there for the purpose. Then I sent messengers into the town with the news,
and presently out came my Noble Sportsman and the Suite in carriages, armed
to the teeth. I could not help laughing in my sleeve. However, the natives
did the thing in style. They erected a wooden tower, into which my Royal
Companion could climb, and from which he could shoot at his ease—or,.I should

* As Our Correspondent intimates his intention of speedily returning, we have decided
upon waiting for his arrival, in order to obtain such explanations of Indian words as we
cannot find in our own Indian Dictionary. At present, in default of better information, we
can only inform our readers that the usually accepted interpretation of Haremzadah is not
any sort of cigar, but " a savage;" that Chowrie, of which he professes to have had a glass,
is a " Fly-flapper, formed of the tail of a Thibet cow, and only used by persons of high
rank ; " and the Tattee, which he explains to be " a sort of street-boy," is "a screen of
glass placed in a window, and cooled by water." Magna est Veritas !-We break off sud-
denly. A Telegram has just reached us, from a person in whom we have every confidence,
informing us that a person, bearing a striking resemblance to our Eepresentative, and a Boy
with a large booh, have just been seen on the pier at Gravesend. The Boy, by the descrip-
tion, seems to be our missing link. "We have telegraphed back "Spare no expense. Follow
them, and bring them to justice, whatever it may cost you." Perhaps, before this number
is published, we shall be in possession of further and more certain details. At present, all
we can do is to request our readers to suspend their judgment, and our judgment would
suspend them (the delinquents) if it could.—Ed.

t At present it is not worth our while to do more than remark that the Dictionary
gives Musnud, not as a "walking-cane," but a "Mussulman throne." Where will
this end ?—Ed.

say, shoot at his tiger—for I suppose that a man shooting at
his ease, would intend to kill time, whatever he aimed at.

When all was prepared, I undid the cord, and pulled
the tiger's tail, but he wouldn't wake—he was sleeping
off the fumes of the rum. Two buckets of water did the
trick, when he arose with a low growl, and gave me a
side-glance of intense dislike. But, fortunately, as a boy,
I had picked up the secret of pacifying these brutes, and
it stood, me in good stead on this occasion. He came out
of the tub, looked about, yawned, and then, pulling him-
self together, began quietly trotting homewards towards
his native jungle. Another tug of his tail from me sent
him off towards the Royal box, whence he was very soon
saluted with two or three shots that immensely as-
tonished him. He gave one roar, bounded off, and dis-
appeared, much to the disappointment of the gentlemen
in the wooden tower. But, knowing his route, I took a
short cut, and met him as he was turning the corner.
With all the concentrated fury at his command, he
sprang on me, but, luckily, remembering that sort of
Pantomime trick which Indian hunters practise, I passed
underneath him as he bounded over me, caught him by
the tail, which brought him heavily to the ground, and
then with an air-pistol, so that the report might not
reach Somebody's ears, I settled accounts with Mr. Tiger.
Then I carefully inserted a bullet in the beast's heart,
and ran back, shouting and holloaing, to the Noble and
Distinguished Party. What was their delight at seeing
the Splendid Animal dead as mutton! The question
was, Who killed Cock Robin?" The answer was
soon forthcoming. One of the natives, stooping, found
in the Tiger's heart a bullet, which, being handed, round
(like the shoe in Cinderella), to find out to whom it
belonged, was at last discovered to fit exactly the bore of
His Royal Highnesses rifle ! !

Come, Sir, wasn't that worth five thousand a-year and
a baronetcy? I believe you, my Bhoy! But where is
gratitude in this world ? Hymns are actually being
composed and sung in honour of the Tiger Slayer ; and
no deed has done more for the future of India than this,
the fame of which will raise my Noble and Amiable
Companion to the highest pinnacle on which Indian
reverence can place him. And yet—shall auld acquaint-
ance be forgot t

I must finish up this in haste, having been just called
in to join in our evening Spelling-Bee, over our cup of
Kafly. They put too much Shikkaree in the Kafly here.
However, as it's in the next tent, I must throw my
Suwarree loosely round my throat, and run in.

Ibrahim Beg has just come in, to ask us to lend him
two rupees, to put on at Bagheecha* (a sort of Blind
Hookey). Ibrahim Beg belongs to an ancient family,
but he's always cadging, and he doesn't pay when he
wins. I'm off.

Your Ever Faithful Representative.
{In India.)

* Bagheecha, according to the Dictionary, is "a fruit garden,"
not a game of cards. We are expecting another telegram from
Gravesend. We warn the public in advance, and have a great
mind to publish the photographs of our Correspondent and the
Boy.—Ed.

SUFFOCATION AND SCIENCE.

The atmosphere of the Lecture Theatre of the Royal
Institution is remarkable for containing a very large ex-
cess of carbonic acid gas, when, as usual on Friday evening
meetings, those who breathe it are numerous. Hence, the
Albemarle Street rendezvous of philosophers cannot be
crowded, without being, literally,'crammed to suffocation.
The representative of the Medical Press and Circular
notes, that during Professor Huxley's lecture there the
other night, Ladies were led out fainting, and states that
he was himself almost obliged to retire by the stifling
nature of the air under the gallery. An attempt made
to open the ventilators set Professor Huxley sneezing,
and nearly made him shut up. Ventilation has ever
been notoriously defective, and the air loaded with
noxious gas,fat the Royal Institution. Its theatre when
filled is as fit for a lecture-room as the Grotto del Cane—
fit to stupefy everybody in it, and send even the hearers
of Professors Huxley and Tyxdall to sleep. Yet the
Royal Institution is the very Temple of Chemical Science.
Here is another parallel to the case of the shoemaker's
wife; always the worst shod woman in the parish—isn't
she ?

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