Man-eaters of Kumaon

by Jim Corbett

Overview

'Man-Eaters of Kumaon' is the best known of Corbett's books, one which offers ten fascinating and spine-tingling tales of pursuing and shooting tigers in the Indian Himalayas during the early years of this 19th Century. The stories also offer first-hand information about the exotic flora, fauna, and village life in this obscure and treacherous region of India, making it as interesting a travelogue as it is a compelling look at a bygone era of hunting. No one understood the ways of the Indian jungle better than Corbett. A skilled tracker, he preferred to hunt alone and on foot, sometimes accompanied by his small dog Robin. Corbett derived intense happiness from observing wildlife and he was a fervent conservationist as well as a tracker. He empathised with the impoverished people amongst whom he lived, in what is today Uttarakhand, and he established India's first tiger sanctuary there. Corbett's writing is as immediate and accessible today as it was when first published in 1944.

Product Details

ISBN-13:	9789354990731
Publisher:	General Press
Publication date:	09/15/2021
Pages:	258
Sales rank:	278,032
Product dimensions:	5.00(w) x 8.00(h) x 0.58(d)

About the Author

Jim Corbett was born in 1875 in the Himalayas to Irish parents, one of 16 children. His father was the postmaster there. Roaming daily from his home, Jim was fascinated as a young boy by the surrounding jungle and its flora and fauna. He refused bounties and lived simply. He retired with his sister to Kenya where he died aged 79.

British artist and illustrator best known for illustrating Hemingway's The Old Man and the Sea.

Read an Excerpt

Her tracks now — as she carried away the girl — led into the wilderness of rocks, some acres in extent, where the going was both difficult and dangerous. The cracks and chasms inbetween the rocks were masked with ferns and blackberry vines, and a false step, which might easily have resulted in a broken limb, would have been fatal. Progress under these conditions was of necessity slow, and the tigress was taking advantage of it to continue her meal. A dozen times I found where she had rested and after each of this rests the blood trail became more distinct.

This was her four hundred and thirty-sixth human kill and she was quite accustomed to being disturbed at her meals by rescue parties but this, I think, was the first time she had been followed up so persistently and she now began to show her resentment by growling. To appreciate a tiger's growl to the full it is necessary to be situated as I then was-rocks all round with dense vegetation between, and the imperative necessity of testing each footstep to avoid falling headlong into unseen chasms and caves.

I cannot expect you who read this at your fireside to appreciate my feelings at the time. The sound of the growling and the expectation of an attack terrified me at the same time as it gave me hope. If the tigress lost her temper sufficiently to launch an attack, it would not only give me an opportunity of accomplishing the object for which I had come, but it would enable me to get even with her for all the pain and suffering she had caused.

The growling, however, was only a gesture, and when she found that instead of shooing me of it was bringing me faster on her heels, she abandoned it.

I had now been on her track for over four hours. Though I had repeatedly seen the undergrowth moving I had not seen so much as a hair of her hide, and a glance at the shadows climbing up the opposite hillside warned me it was time to retrace my steps if I was to reach the village before dark.

The late owner of the severed leg was a Hindu, and some portion of her would be needed for the cremation, so as I passed the pool I dug a hole in the bank and buried the leg where it would be safe from the tigress, and could be found when wanted.