admiration of a belle, he compares her to a monkey. In his eyes, the supremest beauty of femininity is agility. The girl who can shin up a lofty tree, and bring him down fruit to eat is the acme of feminine perfection. 'Ah,my sweet monkey girl,' said a demoralised Chenchu, who was too idle to climb up a tree himself, 'she has been climbing trees all day, and throwing me fruit. There is not a man in the forest who can climb like my monkey girl.' The Chenchus are wisely employed by the authorities as road-police or Taliāris, to prevent highway dacoities. This is an astute piece of diplomacy. The Chenchus themselves are the only dacoits there abouts, and the salary paid them as road-police is virtually blackmail to induce them to guarantee the freedom of the forest highways. The Chenchu barters the produce of the forests in which he lives, namely, honey and wax, deer horns and hides, tamarinds, wood apples (Feronia elephantum), and mowhra (Bassia latifolia) fruit and flowers, and realises a very considerable income from these sources. He reaps annually a rich harvest of hides and horns. The sāmbur (Cervus unicolor) and spotted deer (Cervus axis) shed their horns at certain seasons. These horns are hidden in the rank luxuriant grass. But, when the heat of the dry weather has withered it, the Chenchu applies fire to it by rubbing two dried sticks together, and, walking in the wake of the flames, picks up the horns disclosed to view by the reduction of the vegetation to ashes. He supplements this method with his bow and rifle, and by the latter means alone obtains his hides. The Chenchu is every bit as bad a shot as the average aboriginal. He rarely stalks, but, when he does, he makes up by his skill in woodcraft for his inexpertness with his gun. He understands the importance of not giving the deer a slant of
