"We went up to the spot, made the Begaum give him a kick, to be
sure that he was dead, and then got down to examine the unfortunate
fakir. The tiger had seized him by the shoulder, which was terribly
torn, and the bone broken. He was still perfectly conscious.
"We at once fired three shots, our usual signal that the tiger was
dead, and in a few minutes were surrounded by the villagers, who
hardly knew whether to be delighted at the death of their enemy,
or to grieve over the injury to the fakir. We proposed taking the
latter to our hospital at Jubbalpore, but this he positively refused
to listen to. However, we finally persuaded him to allow his arm to
be set and the wounds dressed in the first place by our regimental
surgeon, after which he could go to one of the native villages and
have his arm dressed in accordance with his own notions. A litter
was soon improvised, and away we went to Jubbalpore, which we
reached about eight in the evening.
"The fakir refused to enter the hospital, so we brought out a
couple of trestles, laid the litter upon them, and the surgeon set
his arm and dressed his wounds by torchlight, when he was lifted
into a dhoolie, and his bearers again prepared to start for the
village.
"Hitherto he had only spoken a few words; but he now briefly
expressed his deep gratitude to Simmonds and myself.
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