National Geographic : 1952 Dec
754 High above Ha Valley, the Author Watches for a Deer's Startled Flight Although Bhutan abounds in game, few people hunt, owing to Buddhist dislike for taking life. Here Mr. Todd holds a 9-mm . Mauser ready while beaters drive deer toward him. Later the hunter became the hunted. A wild elephant, enraged by the sting of small bullets, charged and treed him (page 736). What I exclaimed is best unrecorded. So -we were off again, down the bed of a stream, up over its bank, along the steep side of a hill, dodging in and out among the trees. I didn't even dare turn my head to see if the bear was still following. At last I had no more wind to run on. I looked back. The bear was nowhere to be seen. Sitting before my fire that evening, I imag ined I saw in its glowing embers the frowning face of the lama of the Ha Valley monastery. I recalled my unlucky first throw at dice. When I swore a new resolution that night to shun big-game shooting, I included throw ing dice for good measure. Days later we reached the last pass on the Buxa Road. Before us, under a blanket of warm blue haze, stretched the plains of West Bengal. I could see Jaigaon, my destination, and not far from it the smoke from a tea factory's chimney spiraling lazily into the still air. The bazaar at Jaigaon was thronged with transport coolies, laden mules, trucks, and bullock carts bringing produce up from India. My jeep, sent from Kalimpong, was ready. As we pulled away, I turned and waved fare well to my men. Standing apart, reserved and smiling, away from the bustle and hurried life of the bazaar, they seemed to symbolize their country and its people.