One of my Burmese friends told me about the hunting trip， which he made in that country. He told me that a hunter came to him and requested for his help in hunting a deer next day. As per the law Burman's are not allowed to carry a gun so he had to hunt with his eyes and voice and a big stick. His part was to stalk the deer， to turn them back towards the hunters. He was positioned at the head of the long chasm， up where the animals were expected to flee， and told to make himself noticeable.

　　He was excited for his part in the sport. He stood alone in the deep， dark forest for long hours， but there was no sign of gunshot or animals. Now he started thinking of about the possibilities， if the fugitive deer should come his way， they would scent him and change there way as the wind was blowing in the direction from which they would come and more over they were harmless creatures. The second thought the strike his mind was that if the hunter came too close， mistake him for a deer and fire him. Such things had happened. So he decided to stand close beside the trunk of a tree.

　　Time passed and still there was no disturbance in the jungle， it was all silent. He was getting tired of his part of the fun， acting as a scared deer and nothing else. He walked round and round the tree， he climbed up on one of its lower boughs and sat swinging his legs. He got down again and stood beside it.

　　Then， from the far away along the tree-clad hillside， came a familiar sound- the monkeys. The call grew louder and louder and multiplied in a score of throats， echoed from the far hills. Definitely they were big monkeys and were heading towards him. They came nearer and nearer without descending to the ground， just， following each other as they were playing ‘Follow your leader from tree to tree’。

　　My friend‘s hair began to rise， and cold chill ran up and down his back. These monkeys are not usually dangerous， but if the mothers were carrying their young and when encountering anything dangerous， they are too ugly. And he was without a gun， a man without a gun is of no match to the pack of these jungle creatures.

　　He was too frightened to move， all thoughts of hunting a deer were lost. Fortunately he was wearing clothes that were old and dark in color. He immediately flattened his body against the tree trunk， and tried hard to look like a part to it， with his protective coloring， or like something else which belonged there.

　　So monkeys came on， straight for his tree one after the other in long line. The leader stepped on a limb near me friends head， then on his head and went on. And the next monkey did the same and the next and the next and the procedure went on till the whole troop used his head as a stepping-stone without seeing what it really was.

　　He wanted to yell but his throat was so dry that his voice made no sound. He wanted to run but he seemed to be rooted to the spot， like a tree with fear. When the troop of monkeys were out of sight in the trees he lost no time getting out of that neighbourhood. And from then onwards No deer hunting， no deer hunting and no deer hunting was his slogan for the hunters who came to seek his help.

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