Uncle Sidhu was no relation. He used to be Baba’s next door neighbour when he lived in our old ancestral home, long before I was born. Baba treated him like a brother, and we all called him Uncle. Uncle Sidhu’s knowledge about most things was extraordinary and his memory remarkably powerful. Feluda and I both admired and respected him enormously. But why did Feluda want to see him at this time? The first question Feluda asked made that clear. ‘Have you heard of a travel writer called Shambhucharan Bose? He used to write in English, about sixty years ago.’ Uncle Sidhu’s eyes widened. ‘Good heavens, Felu, haven’t you read his book on the Terai?’ ‘Oh yes,’ said Feluda, ‘now I do remember. The man’s name sounded familiar, but no, I haven’t read the book.’ ‘It was called The Terrors of Terai. A British publisher in London published it in 1915. Shambhucharan was both a traveller and a shikari. But by profession he was a doctor. He used to practise in Kathmandu. This was long before the present royal family came into power. The powerful people in Nepal then were the Ranas. Shambhucharan treated and cured a lot of ailments among the Ranas. He mentioned one of them in his book. Vijayendra Shamsher Jung Bahadur. The man was keen on hunting, but he drank very heavily. Apparently, he used to climb a machan with a bottle in one hand and a rifle in the other. But both his hands stayed steady when it came to pressing the trigger. Except once. Only once did he miss, and the tiger jumped up on the machan. It was Shambhucharan who shot the tiger from the next machan and saved the Rana’s life. The Rana expressed his gratitude by giving him a priceless jewel. A most thrilling story. Try and get a copy from the National Library. I don’t think you’ll get it easily anywhere else.’ ‘Did he ever go to Tibet?’ ‘Yes, certainly. He died in 1921, soon after I finished college. I saw an obituary on him, I remember. It said he had gone to Tibet after his retirement, although he died in Kathmandu.’ ‘I see.’ Feluda remained silent for a few moments. Then he said, in a clear, distinct tone, ‘Supposing an unpublished manuscript was discovered today, written after his visit to Tibet, would that be a valuable document?’ ‘My goodness!’ Uncle Sidhu’s bald dome glistened with excitement. ‘You don’t know what you’re saying, Felu! Valuable? I still remember the very high praise Terai had received from the London Times. It wasn’t just the stories he told, Shambhucharan’s language was easy, lucid and clear as crystal. Why, have you found such a manuscript?’ ‘No, but there might be one in existence.’

‘If you can lay your hands on it, please don’t forget to show it to me, Felu. And in case it gets auctioned, let me know. I’d be prepared to bid up to five thousand rupees . . .’ We left