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.

We told him that we would ride over to see him shortly, and hoped to find him getting on rapidly.
Another minute and he was gone.
"It happened that we had three or four fellows away on leave or on staff duty, and several others laid up with fever just about this time, so that the duty fell very heavily upon the rest of us, and it was over a month before we had time to ride over to see the fakir.
"We had heard he was going on well; but we were surprised, on reaching the village, to find that he had already returned to his old abode in the jungle.