The author obviously knows a great deal about hunting with cheetahs, one of the world's most exotic sports. Unfortunately, he decided to write it up for youngsters in the form of a novel. His setting is India, but his plot, one of a swift, over-easy rise from rags to riches, leaves him with a hackneyed Horatio Alger hero in a turban. Loki, a poor orphan boy working with the animals in a travelling circus, wins the admiration of a Maharajah who keeps a whole stable of hunting cheetahs, each with its own trainer. He transfers Loki to his estate and and the whole, fascinating regime of controlling and training cheetahs holds the attention while the fictional devices interfere. In less time than it takes to say, ""Here, kitty, kitty,"" Ramlal has mastered the disciplines of cheetah handling, become head trainer over experienced men and won the dowried daughter of a well established man. There is no conflict not easily resolved and the dialogue is banal. Robert Shore's black and white drawings are as wonderfully rich and original as the subject. It's a shame the fiction doesn't match.