After breakfast, we were very much interested in watching the monkeys. The tope swarmed with a grey species, some of which appeared almost as large as men. They are peculiarly sacred in the eyes of the Hindus, who imagine that one of their gods once assumed a similar form. They are called Hunnamuns, which was the name of that deity. My wife and I stood at the door of the tent watching them for hours; they do not appear to be afraid of men. Many of the females had young ones with them, and they came and sat down close to us with their little ones in their laps. First they would suckle them, then they would hush them to sleep, or turn them over and over, pulling off all the dirt that adhered to their skins, and making them clean and comfortable.
A little farther off you would see four or five males picking the fruit off a low bush, and chattering to one another all the time. Then a half-grown one would jump down, and give a hard pull at an old one's tail, for which he generally received a good box on the ear, unless he was nimble enough to get out of the way in time; presently one of the old fellows would get angry, and spring into the tree after his little tormentor, and a regular chase would ensue. The leaps they take are tremendous; they will often spring from the top of a lofty tree into the middle of the next without falling.
I saw one of the females shot; it was a cruel sight, and struck all the natives with horror. They refused to touch the dead body. The ball did not kill her instantly, and she cried piteously, whilst she pressed her little one to her bosom, and tried to get into the tree. To the last she would not relinquish her young one, and died in endeavouring to save it. I could not shoot a monkey, their actions and their cries are so like human beings. I know of a case in which an officer shot one, and the whole herd instantly sprang from the trees and attacked him; it was with difficulty he was saved. They are most interesting creatures.
In the evening I went out with my gun, accompanied by Captain R. I got nothing, however, but some doves and some crow-pheasants; the latter are not eaten by Europeans, though much relished by the low-caste natives. It is a bird, as the name signifies, between a crow and a pheasant. The colour is black, tinged with a deep dull red. It has a long tail, and runs like a pheasant; but I believe that its food is the same as a crow's, that is, carrion and animal food.