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The Rifle and the Hound in Ceylon

by Sir Samuel White Baker · English · Gutenberg #3231 · 518,584 chars · public domain (US)

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Title: The Rifle and the Hound in Ceylon

Author: Sir Samuel White Baker


        
Release date: May 1, 2002 [eBook #3231]
                Most recently updated: February 22, 2009

Language: English

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Produced by Garry Gill, Charles Franks, and the Distributed
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THE RIFLE AND HOUND IN CEYLON


By Sir Samuel White Baker




PREFACE.

Upwards of twenty years have passed since the 'Rifle and Hound in
Ceylon' was published, and I have been requested to write a preface for
a new edition. Although this long interval of time has been spent in
a more profitable manner than simple sport, nevertheless I have added
considerably to my former experience of wild animals by nine years
passed in African explorations. The great improvements that have been
made in rifles have, to a certain extent, modified the opinions that
I expressed in the 'Rifle and Hound in Ceylon.' Breech-loaders have so
entirely superseded the antiquated muzzle-loader, that the hunter of
dangerous animals is possessed of an additional safeguard. At the same
time I look back with satisfaction to the heavy charges of powder that
were used by me thirty years ago and were then regarded as absurd, but
which are now generally acknowledged by scientific gunners as the only
means of insuring the desiderata of the rifle, i.e., high velocity, low
trajectory, long range, penetration, and precision.

When I first began rifle-shooting thirty-seven years ago, not one man
in a thousand had ever handled such a weapon. Our soldiers were then
armed*(*With the exception of the Rifle Brigade) with the common old
musket, and I distinctly remember a snubbing that I received as a
youngster for suggesting, in the presence of military men, 'that the
army should throughout be supplied with rifles.' This absurd idea
proposed by a boy of seventeen who was a good shot with a weapon that
was not in general use, produced such a smile of contempt upon
my hearers, that the rebuke left a deep impression, and was never
forgotten. A life's experience in the pursuit of heavy game has
confirmed my opinion expressed in the 'Rifle and Hound' in 1854--that
the best weapon for a hunter of average strength is a double rifle
weighing fifteen pounds, of No. 10 calibre. This should carry a charge
of ten drachms of No. 6 powder (coarse grain). In former days I used
six or seven drachms of the finest grained powder with the old
muzzle-loader, but it is well known that the rim of the breech-loading
cartridge is liable to burst with a heavy charge of the fine grain,
therefore No. 6 is best adapted for the rifle.

Although a diversity of calibres is a serious drawback to the comfort
of a hunter in wild countries, it is quite impossible to avoid the
difficulty, as there is no rifle that will combine the requirements
for a great variety of game. As the wild goose demands B B shot and the
snipe No. 8, in like manner the elephant requires the heavy bullet, and
the deer is contented with the small-bore.

I have found great convenience in the following equipment for hunting
every species of game in wild tropical countries.

One single-barrel rifle to carry a half-pound projectile, or a four
ounce, according to strength of hunter.

Three double-barrelled No. 10 rifles, to carry ten drachms No. 6 powder.

One double-barrelled small-bore rifle, sighted most accurately for
deer-shooting. Express to carry five or six drachms, but with hardened
solid bullet.

Two double-barrelled No. 10 smooth-bores to carry shot or ball; the
latter to be the exact size for the No. 10 rifles.

According to my experience, such a battery is irresistible.

The breech-loader has manifold advantages over the muzzle-loader in a
wild country. Cartridges should always be loaded in England, and they
should be packed in hermetically sealed tin cases within wooden boxes,
to contain each fifty, if large bores, or one hundred of the smaller
calibre.

These will be quite impervious to damp, or to the attacks of insects.
The economy of ammunition will be great, as the cartridge can be drawn
every evening after the day's work, instead of being fired off as with
the muzzle-loader, in order that the rifle may be cleaned.

The best cartridges will never miss fire. This is an invaluable quality
in the pursuit of dangerous game.

Although I advocate the express small-bore with the immense advantage
of low trajectory, I am decidedly opposed to the hollow expanding
bullet for heavy, thick-skinned game. I have so frequently experienced
disappointment by the use of the hollow bullet that I should always
adhere to the slightly hardened and solid projectile that will preserve
its original shape after striking the thick hide of a large animal.

A hollow bullet fired from an express rifle will double up a deer,
but it will be certain to expand upon the hard skin of elephants,
rhinoceros, hippopotami, buffaloes, &c.; in which case it will lose
all power of penetration. When a hollow bullet strikes a large bone, it
absolutely disappears into minute particles of lead,--and of course it
becomes worthless.

For many years I have been supplied with firstrate No. 10 rifles by
Messrs. Reilly & Co. of Oxford Street, London, which have never become
in the slightest degree deranged during the rough work of wild hunting.
Mr. Reilly was most successful in the manufacture of explosive shells
from my design; these were cast-iron coated with lead, and their effect
was terrific.

Mr. Holland of Bond Street produced a double-barrelled rifle that
carried the Snider Boxer cartridge. This was the most accurate weapon
up to 300 yards, and was altogether the best rifle that I ever used; but
although it possessed extraordinary precision, the hollow bullet caused
the frequent loss of a wounded animal. Mr. Holland is now experimenting
in the conversion of a Whitworth-barrel to a breech-loader. If this
should prove successful, I should prefer the Whitworth projectile to
any other for a sporting rifle in wild countries, as it would combine
accuracy at both long and short ranges with extreme penetration.

The long interval that has elapsed since I was in Ceylon, has caused a
great diminution in the wild animals.

The elephants are now protected by game laws, although twenty years ago
a reward was offered by the Government for their destruction. The 'Rifle
and Hound' can no longer be accepted as a guidebook to the sports in
Ceylon; the country is changed, and in many districts the forests have
been cleared, and civilization has advanced into the domains of wild
beasts. The colony has been blessed with prosperity, and the gradual
decrease of game is a natural consequence of extended cultivation and
increased population.

In the pages of this book it will be seen that I foretold the
destruction of the wild deer and other animals twenty years ago. At that
time the energetic Tamby's or Moormen were possessed of guns, and had
commenced a deadly warfare in the jungles, killing the wild animals as a
matter of business, and making a livelihood by the sale of dried flesh,
hides, and buffalo-horns. This unremitting slaughter of the game during
all seasons has been most disastrous, and at length necessitated the
establishment of laws for its protection.

As the elephants have decreased in Ceylon, so in like manner their
number must be reduced in Africa by the continual demand for ivory.
Since the 'Rifle and Hound' was written, I have had considerable
experience with the African elephant.

This is a distinct species, as may be seen by a comparison with the
Indian elephant in the Zoological Gardens of the Regent's Park.

In Africa, all elephants are provided with tusks; those of the females
are small, averaging about twenty pounds the pair. The bull's are
sometimes enormous. I have seen a pair of tusks that weighed 300 lbs.,
and I have met with single tusks of 160 lbs. During this year (1874) a
tusk was sold in London that weighed 188 lbs. As the horns of deer vary
in different localities, so the ivory is also larger and of superior
quality in certain districts. This is the result of food and climate.
The average of bull elephant's tusks in equatorial Africa is about 90
lbs. or 100 lbs. the pair.

It is not my intention to write a treatise upon the African
elephant; this has been already described in the 'Nile Tributaries of
Abyssinia,'*(* Published by Messrs. Macmillan and Co.) but it will be
sufficient to explain that it is by no means an easy beast to kill when
in the act of charging. From the peculiar formation of the head, it is
almost impossible to kill a bull elephant by the forehead shot; thus the
danger of hunting the African variety is enhanced tenfold.

The habits of the African elephant are very different from those of his
Indian cousins. Instead of retiring to dense jungles at sunrise, the
African will be met with in the mid-day glare far away from forests,
basking in the hot prairie grass of ten feet high, which scarcely
reaches to his withers.

Success in elephant shooting depends materially upon the character of
the ground. In good forests, where a close approach is easy, the African
species can be killed like the Indian, by one shot either behind the
ear or in the temple; but in open ground, or in high grass, it is both
uncertain and extremely dangerous to attempt a close approach on foot.
Should the animal turn upon the hunter, it is next to impossible to take
the forehead-shot with effect. It is therefore customary in Africa, to
fire at the shoulder with a very heavy rifle at a distance of fifty or
sixty yards. In Ceylon it was generally believed that the shoulder-shot
was useless; thus we have distinct methods of shooting the two species
of elephants: this is caused, not only by the difference between the
animals, but chiefly by the contrast in the countries they inhabit.
Ceylon is a jungle; thus an elephant can be approached within a few
paces, which admit of accurate aim at the brain. In Africa the elephant
is frequently upon open ground; therefore he is shot in the larger mark
(the shoulder) at a greater distance. I have shot them successfully both
in the brain and in the shoulder, and where the character of the country
admits an approach to within ten paces, I prefer the Ceylon method of
aiming either at the temple or behind the ear.

Although the African elephant with his magnificent tusks is a higher
type than that of Ceylon, I look back to the hunting of my younger days
with unmixed pleasure. Friends with whom I enjoyed those sports are
still alive, and are true friends always, thus exemplifying that
peculiar freemasonry which unites the hearts of sportsmen.

After a life of rough experience in wild countries, I have found some
pleasure in referring to the events of my early years, and recalling
the recollection of many scenes that would have passed away had they not
been chronicled. I therefore trust that although the brightest days of
Ceylon sports may have somewhat faded by the diminution of the game,
there may be Nimrods (be they young or old) who will still discover some
interest in the 'Rifle and Hound in Ceylon.'

S. W. BAKER.




INTRODUCTION.

THE LOVE OF SPORT is a feeling inherent in most Englishmen, and whether
in the chase, or with the rod or gun, they far excel all other nations.
In fact, the definition of this feeling cannot be understood by many
foreigners. We are frequently ridiculed for fox-hunting: 'What for all
dis people, dis horses, dis many dog? dis leetle (how you call him?) dis
"fox" for to catch? ha! you eat dis creature; he vary fat and fine?'

This is a foreigner's notion of the chase; he hunts for the pot; and by
Englishmen alone is the glorious feeling shared of true, fair, and manly
sport. The character of the nation is beautifully displayed in all our
rules for hunting, shooting, fishing, fighting, etc.; a feeling of fair
play pervades every amusement. Who would shoot a hare in form? who would
net a trout stream? who would hit a man when down? A Frenchman would do
all these things, and might be no bad fellow after all. It would be HIS
way of doing it. His notion would be to make use of an advantage when an
opportunity offered. He would think it folly to give the hare a chance
of running when he could shoot her sitting; he would make an excellent
dish of all the trout he could snare; and as to hitting his man when
down, he would think it madness to allow him to get up again until he
had put him hors de combat by jumping on him. Their notions of sporting
and ours, then, widely differ; they take every advantage, while we give
every advantage; they delight in the certainty of killing, while our
pleasure consists in the chance of the animal escaping.

I would always encourage the love of sport in a lad; guided by its true
spirit of fair play, it is a feeling that will make him above doing a
mean thing in every station of life, and will give him real feelings
of humanity. I have had great experience in the characters of thorough
sportsmen, who are generally straightforward, honourable men, who would
scorn to take a dirty advantage of man or animal. In fact, all real
sportsmen that I have met have been tender-hearted men--who shun cruelty
to an animal, and are easily moved by a tale of distress.

With these feelings, sport is an amusement worthy of a man, and this
noble taste has been extensively developed since the opportunities of
travelling have of late years been so wonderfully improved. The facility
with which the most remote regions are now reached, renders a tour over
some portion of the globe a necessary adjunct to a man's education; a
sportsman naturally directs his path to some land where civilisation has
not yet banished the wild beast from the soil.

Ceylon is a delightful country for the sporting tourist. In the high
road to India and China, any length of time may be spent en passant, and
the voyage by the Overland route is nothing but a trip of a few weeks of
pleasure.

This island has been always celebrated for its elephants, but the other
branches of sport are comparatively unknown to strangers. No account
has ever been written which embraces all Ceylon sports: anecdotes of
elephant-shooting fill the pages of nearly every work on Ceylon; but
the real character of the wild sports of this island has never been
described, because the writers have never been acquainted with each
separate branch of the Ceylon chase.

A residence of many years in this lovely country, where the wild sports
of the island have formed a never-failing and constant amusement, alone
confers sufficient experience to enable a person to give a faithful
picture of both shooting and hunting in Ceylon jungles.

In describing these sports I shall give no anecdotes of others, but I
shall simply recall scenes in which I myself have shared, preferring
even a character for egotism rather than relate the statements of
hearsay, for the truth of which I could not vouch. This must be accepted
as an excuse for the unpleasant use of the first person.

There are many first-rate sportsmen in Ceylon who could furnish
anecdotes of individual risks and hairbreadth escapes (the certain
accompaniments to elephant-shooting) that would fill volumes; but
enough will be found, in the few scenes which I have selected from whole
hecatombs of slaughter, to satisfy and perhaps fatigue the most patient
reader.

One fact I wish to impress upon all--that the colouring of every
description is diminished and not exaggerated, the real scene being in
all cases a picture, of which the narration is but a feeble copy.




CONTENTS.

CHAPTER 1.

Wild Country--Dealings in the Marvellous--Enchanting Moments--The
Wild Elephant of Ceylon--'Rogues'--Elephant Slaughter--Thick
Jungles--Character of the Country--Varieties of Game in Ceylon--'Battery
for Ceylon Sport'--The Elk or 'Samber Deer'--Deer-coursing

CHAPTER II.

Newera Ellia--The Turn-out for Elk-hunting--Elk-hunting--Elk turned to
Bay--The Boar

CHAPTER III.

Minneria Lake--Brush with a Bull--An Awkward Vis-a-vis--A Bright
Thought--Bull Buffalo Receives his Small Change--What is Man?--Long Shot
with the Four-ounce--Charged by a Herd of Buffaloes--The Four-ounce
does Service--The 'Lola'--A Woman killed by a Crocodile--Crocodile at
Bolgodde Lake--A Monster Crocodile--Death of a Crocodile

CHAPTER IV.

Equipment for a Hunting Trip--In Chase of a Herd of Elephants--Hard
Work--Close Quarters--Six Feet from the Muzzle--A Black with a Devil

CHAPTER V.

The Four-ounce again--Tidings of a Rogue--Approaching a Tank Rogue--An
Exciting Moment--Ruins of Pollanarua--Ancient Ruins--Rogues at
Doolana--B. Charged by a Rogue--Planning an Attack--A Check--Narrow
Escape--Rogue-stalking--A Bad Rogue--Dangers of Elephant-shooting--The
Phatamahatmeya's Tale

CHAPTER VI.

Character of the Veddahs--Description of the Veddahs--A Monampitya
Rogue--Attacking the Rogue--Breathless Excitement--Death of a Large
Rogue--Utility of the Four-ounce--A Curious Shot--Fury of a Bull
Buffalo--Character of the Wild Buffalo--Buffalo-shooting at Minneria
Lake--Charge in High Reeds--Close of a Good Day's Sport--Last Day at
Minneria--A Large Snake--An Unpleasant Bedfellow

CHAPTER VII.

Capabilities of Ceylon--Deer at Illepecadewe--Sagacity of a Pariah
Dog--Two Deer at One Shot--Deer-stalking--Hambantotte Country--Kattregam
Festival--Sitrawelle--Ruins of Ancient Mahagam--Wiharewelle--A Night
Attack upon Elephants--Shooting by Moonlight--Yalle River--Another
Rogue--A Stroll before Breakfast--A Curious Shot--A Good Day's Sport

CHAPTER VIII.

Best Hounds for Elk-hunting--Smut--Killbuck--The Horton Plains--A Second
Soyer--The Find--The Buck at Bay--The Bay--The Death--Return of Lost
Dogs--Comparative Speed of Deer--Veddah Ripped by a Boar--A Melee--Buck
at Black Pool--Old Smut's Ruse--Margosse Oil

CHAPTER IX.

A Morning's Deer-coursing--Kondawataweny--Rogue at Kondawataweny--A
Close Shave--Preparations for Catching an Elephant--Catching
an Elephant--Taming Him--Flying Shot at a Buck--Cave at
Dimbooldene--Awkward Ground--A Charmed Life

CHAPTER X.

Another Trip to the Park--A Hard Day's Work--Discover a Herd--Death of
the Herd--A Furious Charge--Caught at Last--The Consequences--A Thorough
Rogue--Another Herd in High Lemon Grass--Bears--A Fight between a
Moorman and a Bear--A Musical Herd--Herd Escape--A Plucky Buck--Death of
'Killbuck'--Good Sport with a Herd--End of the Trip

CHAPTER XI.

Excitement of Elephant-shooting--An Unexpected Visitor--A Long Run
with a Buck--Hard Work Rewarded--A Glorious Bay--End of a Hard Day's
Work--Bee-hunters--Disasters of Elk-hunting--Bran Wounded--'Old Smut's'
Buck--Boar at Hackgalla--Death of 'Old Smut'--Scenery from the Perewelle
Mountains--Diabolical Death of 'Merriman'--Scene of the Murder

CHAPTER XII.

A Jungle Trip

CHAPTER XIII.

Conclusion




THE RIFLE AND HOUND.



CHAPTER I.

Wild Country-Dealings in the Marvellous-Enchanting Moments The Wild
Elephant of Ceylon--'Rogues'-Elephant Slaughter-Thick Jungles-Character
of the Country-Varieties of Game in Ceylon--'Battery for Ceylon
Sport'-The Elk or 'Samber Deer'-Deer-coursing.

It is a difficult task to describe a wild country so exactly, that a
stranger's eye shall at once be made acquainted with its scenery and
character by the description. And yet this is absolutely necessary, if
the narration of sports in foreign countries is supposed to interest
those who have never had the opportunity of enjoying them. The want of
graphic description of localities in which the events have occurred, is
the principal cause of that tediousness which generally accompanies
the steady perusal of a sporting work. You can read twenty pages with
interest, but a monotony soon pervades it, and sport then assumes an
appearance of mere slaughter.

Now, the actual killing of an animal, the death itself, is not sport,
unless the circumstances connected with it are such as to create that
peculiar feeling which can only be expressed by the word 'sport.'
This feeling cannot exist in the heart of a butcher; he would as soon
slaughter a fine buck by tying him to a post and knocking him down,
as he would shoot him in his wild native haunts--the actual moment of
death, the fact of killing, is his enjoyment. To a true sportsman the
enjoyment of a sport increases in proportion to the wildness of the
country. Catch a six-pound trout in a quiet mill-pond in a populous
manufacturing neighbourhood, with well-cultivated meadows on either side
of the stream, fat cattle grazing on the rich pasturage, and, perhaps,
actually watching you as you land your fish: it may be sport. But catch
a similar fish far from the haunts of men, in a boiling rocky torrent
surrounded by heathery mountains, where the shadow of a rod has seldom
been reflected in the stream, and you cease to think the former fish
worth catching; still he is the same size, showed the same courage, had
the same perfection of condition, and yet you cannot allow that it was
sport compared with this wild stream. If you see no difference in the
excitement, you are not a sportsman; you would as soon catch him in
a washing tub, and you should buy your fish when you require him; but
never use a rod, or you would disgrace the hickory.

This feeling of a combination of wild country with the presence of the
game itself, to form a real sport, is most keenly manifested when we
turn our attention to the rifle. This noble weapon is thrown away in an
enclosed country. The smooth-bore may and does afford delightful sport
upon our cultivated fields; but even that pleasure is doubled when
those enclosures no longer intervene, and the wide-spreading moors and
morasses of Scotland give an idea of freedom and undisturbed nature. Who
can compare grouse with partridge shooting? Still the difference exists,
not so much in the character of the bird as in the features of the
country. It is the wild aspect of the heathery moor without a bound,
except the rugged outline of the mountains upon the sky, that gives
such a charm to the grouse-shooting in Scotland, and renders the
deer-stalking such a favourite sport among the happy few who can enjoy
it.

All this proves that the simple act of killing is not sport; if it were,
the Zoological Gardens would form as fine a field to an elephant shot as
the wildest Indian jungle.

Man is a bloodthirsty animal, a beast of prey, instinctively; but let
us hope that a true sportsman is not savage, delighting in nothing but
death, but that his pursuits are qualified by a love of nature, of noble
scenery, of all the wonderful productions which the earth gives forth
in different latitudes. He should thoroughly understand the nature and
habits of every beast or bird that he looks upon as game. This last
attribute is indispensable; without it he may kill, but he is not a
sportsman.

We have, therefore, come to the conclusion that the character of a
country influences the character of the sport. The first question,
therefore, that an experienced man would ask at the recital of a
sporting anecdote would be, 'What kind of country is it?' That being
clearly described to him, he follows you through every word of your tale
with a true interest, and in fact joins in imagination in the chase.

There is one great drawback to the publication of sporting
adventures--they always appear to deal not a little in the marvellous;
and this effect is generally heightened by the use of the first person
in writing, which at all events may give an egotistical character to a
work. This, however, cannot easily be avoided, if a person is describing
his own adventures, and he labours under the disadvantage of being
criticised by readers who do not know him personally, and may,
therefore, give him credit for gross exaggeration.

It is this feeling that deters many men who have passed through years of
wild sports from publishing an account of them. The fact of being able
to laugh in your sleeve at the ignorance of a reader who does not credit
you, is but a poor compensation for being considered a better shot with
a long bow than with a rifle. Often have I pitied Gordon Cumming when
I have heard him talked of as a palpable Munchausen, by men who never
fired a rifle, or saw a wild beast, except in a cage; and still these
men form the greater proportion of the 'readers' of these works.

Men who have not seen, cannot understand the grandeur of wild sports in
a wild country. There is an indescribable feeling of supremacy in a man
who understands his game thoroughly, when he stands upon some elevated
point and gazes over the wild territory of savage beasts. He feels
himself an invader upon the solitudes of nature. The very stillness of
the scene is his delight. There is a mournful silence in the calmness of
the evening, when the tropical sun sinks upon the horizon--a conviction
that man has left this region undisturbed to its wild tenants. No hum of
distant voices, no rumbling of busy wheels, no cries of domestic animals
meet the ear. He stands upon a wilderness, pathless and untrodden by
the foot of civilisation, where no sound is ever heard but that of the
elements, when the thunder rolls among the towering forests or the wind
howls along the plains. He gazes far, far into the distance, where the
blue mountains melt into an indefinite haze; he looks above him to the
rocky pinnacles which spring from the level plain, their swarthy cliffs
glistening from the recent shower, and patches of rich verdure clinging
to precipices a thousand feet above him. His eye stretches along the
grassy plains, taking at one full glance a survey of woods, and rocks,
and streams; and imperceptibly his mind wanders to thoughts of home,
and in one moment scenes long left behind are conjured up by memory,
and incidents are recalled which banish for a time the scene before him.
Lost for a moment in the enchanting power of solitude, where fancy and
reality combine in their most bewitching forms, he is suddenly roused by
a distant sound made doubly loud by the surrounding silence--the shrill
trumpet of an elephant. He wakes from his reverie; the reality of the
present scene is at once manifested. He stands within a wilderness where
the monster of the forest holds dominion; he knows not what a day, not
even what a moment, may bring forth; he trusts in a protecting Power,
and in the heavy rifle, and he is shortly upon the track of the king of
beasts.

The king of beasts is generally acknowledged to be the 'lion'; but no
one who has seen a wild elephant can doubt for a moment that the title
belongs to him in his own right. Lord of all created animals in might
and sagacity, the elephant roams through his native forests. He browses
upon the lofty branches, upturns young trees from sheer malice, and from
plain to forest he stalks majestically at break of day 'monarch of all
he surveys.'

A person who has never seen a wild elephant can form no idea of his
real character, either mentally or physically. The unwieldy and
sleepy-looking beast, who, penned up in his cage at a menagerie,
receives a sixpence in his trunk, and turns round with difficulty to
deposit it in a box; whose mental powers seem to be concentrated in
the idea of receiving buns tossed into a gaping mouth by children's
hands,--this very beast may have come from a warlike stock. His sire may
have been the terror of a district, a pitiless highwayman, whose soul
thirsted for blood; who, lying in wait in some thick bush, would rush
upon the unwary passer-by, and know no pleasure greater than the act
of crushing his victim to a shapeless mass beneath his feet. How little
does his tame sleepy son resemble him! Instead of browsing on the rank
vegetation of wild pasturage, he devours plum-buns; instead of bathing
his giant form in the deep rivers and lakes of his native land, he
steps into a stone-lined basin to bathe before the eyes of a pleased
multitude, the whole of whom form their opinion of elephants in general
from the broken-spirited monster which they see before them.

I have even heard people exclaim, upon hearing anecdotes of
elephant-hunting, 'Poor things!'

Poor things, indeed! I should like to see the very person who thus
expresses his pity, going at his best pace, with a savage elephant
after him: give him a lawn to run upon if he likes, and see the elephant
gaining a foot in every yard of the chase, fire in his eye, fury in his
headlong charge; and would not the flying gentleman who lately exclaimed
'Poor thing!' be thankful to the lucky bullet that would save him from
destruction?

There are no animals more misunderstood than elephants; they are
naturally savage, wary, and revengeful; displaying as great courage when
in their wild state as any animal known. The fact of their great natural
sagacity renders them the more dangerous as foes. Even when tamed, there
are many that are not safe for a stranger to approach, and they are then
only kept in awe by the sharp driving hook of the mohout.

In their domesticated state I have seen them perform wonders of sagacity
and strength; but I have nothing to do with tame elephants; there are
whole books written upon the subject, although the habits of an elephant
can be described in a few words.

All wild animals in a tropical country avoid the sun. They wander forth
to feed upon the plains in the evening and during the night, and they
return to the jungle shortly after sunrise.

Elephants have the same habits. In those parts of the country where such
pasturage abounds as bamboo, lemon grass, sedges on the banks of rivers,
lakes, and swamps, elephants are sure to be found at such seasons as
are most propitious for the growth of these plants. When the dry weather
destroys this supply of food in one district, they migrate to another
part of the country.

They come forth to feed about 4 P.M., and they invariably, retire to
the thickest and most thorny jungle in the neighbourhood of their
feeding-place by 7 A.M. In these impenetrable haunts they consider
themselves secure from aggression.

The period of gestation with an elephant is supposed to be two years,
and the time occupied in attaining full growth is about sixteen years.
The whole period of life is supposed to be a hundred years, but my own
opinion would increase that period by fifty.

The height of elephants varies to a great degree, and in all cases is
very deceiving. In Ceylon, an elephant is measured at the shoulder, and
nine feet at this point is a very large animal. There is no doubt that
many elephants far exceed this, as I have shot them so large that two
tall men could lie at full length from the point of the forefoot to
the shoulder; but this is not a common size: the average height at the
shoulder would be about seven feet.*(*The males 7 ft.6 in., the females
7 ft., at the shoulder.)

Not more than one in three hundred has tusks; they are merely provided
with short grubbers, projecting generally about three inches from the
upper jaw, and about two inches in diameter; these are called 'tushes'
in Ceylon, and are of so little value that they are not worth extracting
from the head. They are useful to the elephants in hooking on to a
branch and tearing it down.

Elephants are gregarious, and the average number in a herd is about
eight, although they frequently form bodies of fifty and even eighty in
one troop. Each herd consists of a very large proportion of females, and
they are constantly met without a single bull in their number. I have
seen some small herds formed exclusively of bulls, but this is very
rare. The bull is much larger than the female, and is generally more
savage. His habits frequently induce him to prefer solitude to a
gregarious life. He then becomes doubly vicious. He seldom strays many
miles from one locality, which he haunts for many years. He becomes what
is termed a 'rogue.' He then waylays the natives, and in fact becomes
a scourge to the neighbourhood, attacking the inoffensive without
the slightest provocation, carrying destruction into the natives'
paddy-fields, and perfectly regardless of night fires or the usual
precautions for scaring wild beasts.

The daring pluck of these 'rogues' is only equalled by their extreme
cunning. Endowed with that wonderful power of scent peculiar to
elephants, he travels in the day-time DOWN the wind; thus nothing can
follow upon his track without his knowledge. He winds his enemy as the
cautious hunter advances noiselessly upon his track, and he stands with
ears thrown forward, tail erect, trunk thrown high in the air, with its
distended tip pointed to the spot from which he winds the silent but
approaching danger. Perfectly motionless does he stand, like a statue in
ebony, the very essence of attention, every nerve of scent and hearing
stretched to its cracking point; not a muscle moves, not a sound of a
rustling branch against his rough sides; he is a mute figure of wild and
fierce eagerness. Meanwhile, the wary tracker stoops to the ground,
and with a practised eye pierces the tangled brushwood in search of his
colossal feet. Still farther and farther he silently creeps forward,
when suddenly a crash bursts through the jungle; the moment has arrived
for the ambushed charge, and the elephant is upon him.

What increases the danger is the uncertainty prevailing in all the
movements of a 'rogue'. You may perhaps see him upon a plain or in a
forest. As you advance, he retreats, or he may at once charge. Should he
retreat, you follow him; but you may shortly discover that he is leading
you to some favourite haunt of thick jungle or high grass, from which,
when you least expect it, he will suddenly burst out in full charge upon
you.

Next to a 'rogue' in ferocity, and even more persevering in the pursuit
of her victim, is a female elephant when her young one has been killed.
In such a case she will generally follow up her man until either he
or she is killed. If any young elephants are in the herd, the mothers
frequently prove awkward customers.

Elephant-shooting is doubtless the most dangerous of all sports if the
game is invariably followed up; but there is a great difference between
elephant-killing and elephant-hunting; the latter is sport, the former
is slaughter.

Many persons who have killed elephants know literally nothing about the
sport, and they may ever leave Ceylon with the idea that an elephant is
not a dangerous animal. Their elephants are killed in this way, viz.:

The party of sportsmen, say two or three, arrive at a certain district.
The headman is sent for from the village; he arrives. The enquiry
respecting the vicinity of elephants is made; a herd is reported to be
in the neighbourhood, and trackers and watchers are sent out to find
them.

In the meantime the tent is pitched, our friends are employed in
unpacking the guns, and, after some hours have elapsed, the trackers
return: they have found the herd, and the watchers are left to observe
them.

The guns are loaded and the party starts. The trackers run quickly on
the track until they meet one of the watchers who has been sent back
upon the track by the other watchers to give the requisite information
of the movements of the herd since the trackers left. One tracker
now leads the way, and they cautiously proceed. The boughs are heard
slightly rustling as the unconscious elephants are fanning the flies
from their bodies within a hundred yards of the guns.

The jungle is open and good, interspersed with plots of rank grass; and
quietly following the head tracker, into whose hands our friends have
committed themselves, they follow like hounds under the control of a
huntsman. The tracker is a famous fellow, and he brings up his
employers in a masterly manner within ten paces of the still unconscious
elephants. He now retreats quietly behind the guns, and the sport
begins. A cloud of smoke from a regular volley, a crash through the
splintering branches as the panic-stricken herd rush from the scene of
conflict, and it is all over. X. has killed two, Y. has killed one,
and Z. knocked down one, but he got up again and got away; total, three
bagged. Our friends now return to the tent, and, after perhaps a month
of this kind of shooting, they arrive at their original headquarters,
having bagged perhaps twenty elephants. They give their opinion upon
elephant-shooting, and declare it to be capital sport, but there is no
danger in it, as the elephants INVARIABLY RUN AWAY.

Let us imagine ourselves in the position of the half-asleep and
unsuspecting herd. We are lying down in a doze during the heat of
the day, and our senses are half benumbed by a sense of sleep. We are
beneath the shade of a large tree, and we do not dream that danger is
near us.

A frightful scream suddenly scatters our wandering senses. It is a rogue
elephant upon us! It was the scream of his trumpet that we heard! and
he is right among us. How we should bolt! How we should run at the first
start until we could get a gun! But let him continue this pursuit, and
how long would he be without a ball in his head?

It is precisely the same in attacking a herd of elephants or any other
animals unawares; they are taken by surprise, and are for the moment
panic-stricken. But let our friends X., Y., Z., who have just bagged
three elephants so easily, continue the pursuit, hunt the remaining
portion of the herd down till one by one they have nearly all fallen to
the bullet--X., Y., Z. will have had enough of it; they will be blinded
by perspiration, torn by countless thorns, as they have rushed through
the jungles determined not to lose sight of their game, soaked to the
skin as they have waded through intervening streams, and will entirely
have altered their opinion as to elephants invariably running away,
as they will very probably have seen one turn sharp round from the
retreating herd, and charge straight into them when they least expected
it. At any rate, after a hunt of this kind they can form some opinion of
the excitement of the true sport.

The first attack upon a herd by a couple of first-rate elephant-shots
frequently ends the contest in a few seconds by the death of every
elephant. I have frequently seen a small herd of five or six elephants
annihilated almost in as many seconds after a well-planned approach in
thick jungle, when they have been discovered standing in a crowd and
presenting favourable shots. In such an instance the sport is so soon
concluded that the only excitement consists in the cautious advance to
the attack through bad jungle.

As a rule, the pursuit of elephants through bad, thorny jungles should
if possible be avoided: the danger is in many cases extreme, although
the greater portion of the herd may at other times be perhaps easily
killed. There is no certainty in a shot. An elephant may be discerned by
the eye looming in an apparent mist formed by the countless intervening
twigs and branches which veil him like a screen of network. To reach the
fatal spot the ball must pass through perhaps fifty little twigs, one of
which, if struck obliquely, turns the bullet, and there is no answering
for the consequence. There are no rules, however, without exceptions,
and in some instances the following of the game through the thickest
jungle can hardly be avoided.

The character of the country in Ceylon is generally very unfavourable
to sport of all kinds. The length of the island is about two hundred and
eighty miles, by one hundred and fifty in width; the greater portion
of this surface is covered with impenetrable jungles, which form secure
coverts for countless animals.

The centre of the island is mountainous, torrents from which, form the
sources of the numerous rivers by which Ceylon is so well watered. The
low country is flat. The soil throughout the island is generally poor
and sandy.

This being the character of the country, and vast forests rendered
impenetrable by tangled underwood forming the principal features of the
landscape, a person arriving at Ceylon for the purpose of enjoying its
wild sports would feel an inexpressible disappointment.

Instead of mounting a good horse, as he might have fondly anticipated,
and at once speeding over trackless plains till so far from human
habitations that the territories of beasts commence, he finds himself
walled in by jungle on either side of the highway. In vain he asks for
information. He finds the neighbourhood of Galle, his first landing
place, densely populated; he gets into the coach for Colombo. Seventy
miles of close population and groves of cocoa-nut trees are passed, and
he reaches the capital. This is worse and worse--he has seen no signs
of wild country during his long journey, and Colombo appears to be the
height of civilisation. He books his place for Kandy; he knows that
is in the very centre of Ceylon--there surely must be sport there, he
thinks.

The morning gun fires from the Colombo fort at 5 A.M. and the
coach starts. Miles are passed, and still the country is thickly
populated--paddy cultivation in all the flats and hollows, and even the
sides of the hills are carefully terraced out in a laborious system of
agriculture. There can be no shooting here!

Sixty miles are passed; the top of the Kaduganava Pass is reached,
eighteen hundred feet above the sea level, the road walled with jungle
on either side. From the summit of this pass our newly arrived sportsman
gazes with despair. Far as the eye can reach over a vast extent of
country, mountain and valley, hill and dale, without one open spot, are
clothed alike in one dark screen of impervious forest.

He reaches Kandy, a civilised town surrounded by hills of jungle--that
interminable jungle!--and at Kandy he may remain, or, better still,
return again to England, unless he can get some well-known Ceylon
sportsman to pilot him through the apparently pathless forests, and
in fact to 'show him sport.' This is not easily effected. Men who
understand the sport are not over fond of acting 'chaperon' to a young
hand, as a novice must always detract from the sport in some degree.
In addition to this, many persons do not exactly know themselves; and,
although the idea of shooting elephants appears very attractive at a
distance, the pleasure somewhat abates when the sportsman is forced to
seek for safety in a swift pair of heels.

I shall now proceed to give a description of the various sports in
Ceylon--a task for which the constant practice of many years has
afforded ample incident.

The game of Ceylon consists of elephants, buffaloes, elk, spotted deer,
red or the paddy-field deer*(*A small species of deer found in the
island), mouse deer, hogs, bears, leopards, hares, black partridge,
red-legged partridge, pea-fowl, jungle-fowl, quail, snipe, ducks,
widgeon, teal, golden and several kinds of plover, a great variety of
pigeons, and among the class of reptiles are innumerable snakes, etc.,
and the crocodile.

The acknowledged sports of Ceylon are elephant-shooting,
buffalo-shooting, deer-shooting, elk-hunting, and deer-coursing: the two
latter can only be enjoyed by a resident in the island, as of course the
sport is dependent upon a pack of fine hounds. Although the wild boar is
constantly killed, I do not reckon him among the sports of the country,
as he is never sought for; death and destruction to the hounds generally
being attendant upon his capture. The bear and leopard also do not form
separate sports; they are merely killed when met with.

In giving an account of each kind of sport I shall explain the habits
of the animal and the features of the country wherein every incident
occurs, Ceylon scenery being so diversified that no general description
could give a correct idea of Ceylon sports.

The guns are the first consideration. After the first year of my
experience I had four rifles made to order, which have proved themselves
perfect weapons in all respects, and exactly adapted for heavy game.
They are double-barrelled, No. 10 bores, and of such power in metal that
they weigh fifteen pounds each. I consider them perfection; but should
others consider them too heavy, a pound taken from the weight of the
barrels would make a perceptible difference. I would in all cases
strongly deprecate the two grooved rifle for wild sports, on account of
the difficulty in loading quickly. A No. 10 twelve-grooved rifle will
carry a conical ball of two ounces and a half, and can be loaded as
quickly as a smooth-bore. Some persons prefer the latter to rifles
for elephant-shooting, but I cannot myself understand why a decidedly
imperfect weapon should be used when the rifle offers such superior
advantages. At twenty and even thirty paces a good smooth-bore will
carry a ball with nearly the same precision as a rifle; but in a country
full of various large game there is no certainty, when the ball is
rammed down, at what object it is to be aimed. A buffalo or deer may
cross the path at a hundred yards, and the smooth-bore is useless; on
the other hand, the rifle is always ready for whatever may appear.

My battery consists of one four-ounce rifle (a single barrel) weighing
twenty-one pounds, one long two-ounce rifle (single barrel) weighing
sixteen pounds, and four double-barrelled rifles, No. 10 weighing
each fifteen pounds. Smooth-bores I count for nothing, although I have
frequently used them.

So much for guns. It may therefore be summed up that the proper battery
for Ceylon shooting would be four large-bored double-barrelled rifles,
say from No. 10 to No. 12 in size, but all to be the same bore, so as to
prevent confusion in loading. Persons may suit their own fancy as to
the weight of their guns, bearing in mind that single barrels are very
useless things.

Next to the 'Rifle' in the order of description comes the 'Hound.'

The 'elk' is his acknowledged game, and an account of this animal's size
and strength will prove the necessity of a superior breed of hound.

The 'elk' is a Ceylon blunder and a misnomer. The animal thus called is
a 'samber deer,' well known in India as the largest of all Asiatic deer.

A buck in his prime will stand fourteen hands high at the shoulder, and
will weigh 600 pounds, live weight. He is in colour dark brown, with a
fine mane of coarse bristly hair of six inches in length; the rest of
his body is covered with the same coarse hair of about two inches in
length. I have a pair of antlers in my possession that are thirteen
inches round the burr, and the same size beneath the first branch, and
three feet four inches in length; this, however, is a very unusual size.

The elk has seldom more than six points to his antlers. The low-country
elk are much larger than those on the highlands; the latter are seldom
more than from twelve to thirteen hands high; and of course their weight
is proportionate, that of a buck in condition being about 400 pounds
when gralloched. I have killed them much heavier than this on the
mountains, but I have given about the average weight.

The habits of this animal are purely nocturnal. He commences his
wanderings at sunset, and retires to the forest at break of day. He
is seldom found in greater numbers than two or three together, and is
generally alone. When brought to bay he fights to the last, and charges
man and hound indiscriminately, a choice hound killed being often the
price of victory.

The country in which he is hunted is in the mountainous districts of
Ceylon. Situated at an elevation of 6,200 feet above the sea is Newera
Ellia, the sanatorium of the island. Here I have kept a pack and hunted
elk for some years, the delightful coolness of the temperature (seldom
above 66 degrees Fahr.) rendering the sport doubly enjoyable. The
principal features of this country being a series of wild marsh,
plains, forests, torrents, mountains and precipices, a peculiar hound is
required for the sport.

A pack of thoroughbred fox-hounds would never answer. They would pick
up a cold scent and open upon it before they were within a mile of their
game. Roused from his morning nap, the buck would snuff the breeze, and
to the distant music give an attentive ear, then shake the dew from his
rough hide, and away over rocks and torrents, down the steep
mountain sides, through pathless forests; and woe then to the pack of
thoroughbreds, whose persevering notes would soon be echoed by the rocky
steeps, far, far away from any chance of return, lost in the trackless
jungles and ravines many miles from kennel, a prey to leopards and
starvation! I have proved this by experience, having brought a pack of
splendid hounds from England, only one of which survived a few months'
hunting.

The hound required for elk-hunting is a cross between the fox-hound
and blood-hound, of great size and courage, with as powerful a voice
as possible. He should be trained to this sport from a puppy, and his
natural sagacity soon teaches him not to open unless upon a hot scent,
or about two hundred yards from his game; thus the elk is not disturbed
until the hound is at full speed upon his scent, and he seldom gets a
long start. Fifteen couple of such hounds in full cry put him at his
best pace, which is always tried to the uttermost by a couple or two of
fast and pitiless lurchers who run ahead of the pack, the object
being to press him at first starting, so as to blow him at the very
commencement: this is easily effected, as he is full of food, and it is
his nature always to take off straight UP the hill when first disturbed.
When blown he strikes down hill, and makes at great speed for the
largest and deepest stream; in this he turns to bay, and tries the
mettle of the finest hounds.

The great enemy to a pack is the leopard. He pounces from the branch of
a tree upon a stray hound, and soon finishes him, unless of great size
and courage, in which case the cowardly brute is soon beaten off. This
forms another reason for the choice of large hounds.

The next sport is 'deer-coursing.' This is one of the most delightful
kinds of sport in Ceylon. The game is the axis or spotted deer, and the
open plains in many parts of the low country afford splendid ground for
both greyhound and horse.

The buck is about 250 pounds live weight, of wonderful speed and great
courage, armed with long and graceful antlers as sharp as needles. He
will suddenly turn to bay upon the hard ground, and charge his pursuers,
and is more dangerous to the greyhounds than the elk, from his wonderful
activity, and from the fact that he is coursed by only a pair of
greyhounds, instead of being hunted by a pack.

Pure greyhounds of great size and courage are best adapted for this
sport. They cannot afford to lose speed by a cross with slower hounds.



CHAPTER II.

Newera Ellia--The Turn-out for Elk-Hunting--Elk-Hunting--Elk turned to
Bay--The Boar.

Where shall I begin? This is a momentous question, when, upon glancing
back upon past years, a thousand incidents jostle each other for
precedence. How shall I describe them? This, again, is easier asked than
answered. A journal is a dry description, mingling the uninteresting
with the brightest moments of sport. No, I will not write a journal; it
would be endless and boring. I shall begin with the present as it is,
and call up the past as I think proper.

Here, then, I am in my private sanctum, my rifles all arranged in their
respective stands above the chimney-piece, the stags' horns round walls
hung with horn-cases, powder-flasks and the various weapons of the
chase. Even as I write the hounds are yelling in the kennel.

The thermometer is at 62 degrees Fahr., and it is mid-day. It never
exceeds 72 degrees in the hottest weather, and sometimes falls below
freezing point at night. The sky is spotless and the air calm. The
fragrance of mignonettes, and a hundred flowers that recall England,
fills the air. Green fields of grass and clover, neatly fenced, surround
a comfortable house and grounds. Well-fed cattle of the choicest breeds,
and English sheep, are grazing in the paddocks. Well-made roads and
gravel walks run through the estate. But a few years past, and this was
all wilderness.

Dense forest reigned where now not even the stump of a tree is standing;
the wind howled over hill and valley, the dank moss hung from the
scathed branches, the deep morass filled the hollows; but all is changed
by the hand of civilisation and industry. The dense forests and rough
plains, which still form the boundaries of the cultivated land, only add
to the beauty. The monkeys and parrots are even now chattering among
the branches, and occasionally the elephant in his nightly wanderings
trespasses upon the fields, unconscious of the oasis within his
territory of savage nature.

The still, starlight night is awakened by the harsh bark of the elk; the
lofty mountains, grey with the silvery moonlight, echo back the sound;
and the wakeful hounds answer the well-known cry by a prolonged and
savage yell.

This is 'Newera Ellia,' the sanatorium of Ceylon, the most perfect
climate of the world. It now boasts of a handsome church, a public
reading-room, a large hotel, the barracks, and about twenty private
residences.

The adjacent country, of comparatively table land, occupies an extent
of some thirty miles in length, varying in altitude from 6,200 to 7,000
feet, forming a base for the highest peaks in Ceylon, which rise to
nearly 9,000 feet.

Alternate large plains, separated by belts of forest, rapid rivers,
waterfalls, precipices, and panoramic views of boundless extent, form
the features of this country, which, combined with the sports of the
place, render a residence at Newera Ellia a life of health, luxury, and
independence.

The high road from Colombo passes over the mountains through Newera
Ellia to Badulla, from which latter place there is a bridle road,
through the best shooting districts in Ceylon, to the seaport town of
Batticaloa, and from thence to Trincomalee. The relative distances of
Newera Ellia are, from Galle, 185 miles; from Colombo, 115 miles; from
Kandy, 47 miles; from Badulla, 36 miles; from Batticaloa, 148 miles.
Were it not for the poverty of the soil, Newera Ellia would long ago
have become a place of great importance, as the climate is favourable
to the cultivation of all English produce; but an absence of lime in the
soil, and the cost of applying it artificially, prohibit the cultivation
of all grain, and restrict the produce of the land to potatoes and other
vegetables. Nevertheless, many small settlers earn a good subsistence,
although this has latterly been rendered precarious by the appearance of
the well-known potato disease.

Newera Ellia has always been a favourite place of resort during the
fashionable months, from the commencement of January to the middle
of May. At that time the rainy season commences, and visitors rapidly
disappear.

All strangers remark the scanty accommodation afforded to the numerous
visitors. To see the number of people riding and walking round the
Newera Ellia plain, it appears a marvel how they can be housed in the
few dwellings that exist. There is an endless supply of fine timber in
the forests, and powerful sawmills are already erected; but the island
is, like its soil, 'poor.' Its main staple, 'coffee,' does not pay
sufficiently to enable the proprietors of estates to indulge in the
luxury of a house at Newera Ellia. Like many watering-places in England,
it is overcrowded at one season and deserted at another, the only
permanent residents being comprised in the commandant, the officer in
command of the detachment of troops, the government agent, the doctor,
the clergyman, and our own family.

Dull enough! some persons may exclaim; and so it would be to any but a
sportsman; but the jungles teem with large game, and Newera Ellia is
in a central position, as the best sporting country is only three days'
journey, or one hundred miles, distant. Thus, at any time, the guns may
be packed up, and, with tents and baggage sent on some days in advance,
a fortnight's or a month's war may be carried on against the elephants
without much trouble.

The turn-out for elk-hunting during the fashionable season at Newera
Ellia is sometimes peculiarly exciting. The air is keen and frosty, the
plains snow-white with the crisp hoar frost, and even at the early hour
of 6 A.M. parties of ladies may be seen urging their horses round the
plain on their way to the appointed meet. Here we are waiting with the
anxious pack, perhaps blessing some of our more sleepy friends for not
turning out a little earlier. Party after party arrives, including
many of the fair sex, and the rosy tips to all countenances attest the
quality of the cold even in Ceylon.

There is something peculiarly inspiriting in the early hour of sunrise
upon these mountains--an indescribable lightness in the atmosphere,
owing to the great elevation, which takes a wonderful effect upon
the spirits. The horses and the hounds feel its influence in an equal
degree; the former, who are perhaps of sober character in the hot
climate, now champ the bit and paw the ground: their owners hardly know
them by the change.

We have frequently mustered as many as thirty horses at a meet; but on
these occasions a picked spot is chosen where the sport may be easily
witnessed by those who are unaccustomed to it. The horses may, in these
instances, be available, but as a rule they are perfectly useless in
elk-hunting, as the plains are so boggy that they would be hock-deep
every quarter of a mile. Thus no person can thoroughly enjoy elk-hunting
who is not well accustomed to it, as it is a sport conducted entirely on
foot, and the thinness of the air in this elevated region is very trying
to the lungs in hard exercise. Thoroughly sound in wind and limb, with
no superfluous flesh, must be the man who would follow the hounds in
this wild country--through jungles, rivers, plains and deep ravines,
sometimes from sunrise to sunset without tasting food since the previous
evening, with the exception of a cup of coffee and a piece of toast
before starting. It is trying work, but it is a noble sport: no weapon
but the hunting-knife; no certainty as to the character of the game that
may be found; it may be either an elk, or a boar, or a leopard, and yet
the knife and the good hounds are all that can be trusted in.

It is a glorious sport certainly to a man who thoroughly understands
it; the voice of every hound familiar to his ear; the particular kind of
game that is found is at once known to him, long before he is in view,
by the style of the hunting. If an elk is found, the hounds follow with
a burst straight as a line, and at a killing pace, directly up the
hill, till he at length turns and bends his headlong course for some
stronghold in a deep river to bay. Listening to the hounds till certain
of their course, a thorough knowledge of the country at once tells the
huntsman of their destination, and away he goes.

He tightens his belt by a hole, and steadily he starts at a long,
swinging trot, having made up his mind for a day of it. Over hills and
valleys, through tangled and pathless forests, but all well known to
him, steady he goes at the same pace on the level, easy through the bogs
and up the hills, extra steam down hill, and stopping for a moment to
listen for the hounds on every elevated spot. At length he hears them!
No, it was a bird. Again he fancies that he hears a distant sound--was
it the wind? No; there it is--it is old Smut's voice--he is at bay!
Yoick to him! he shouts till his lungs are well-nigh cracked, and
through thorns and jungles, bogs and ravines, he rushes towards the
welcome sound. Thick-tangled bushes armed with a thousand hooked thorns
suddenly arrest his course; it is the dense fringe of underwood that
borders every forest; the open plain is within a few yards of him. The
hounds in a mad chorus are at bay, and the woods ring again with the
cheering sound. Nothing can stop him now--thorns, or clothes, or flesh
must go--something must give way as he bursts through them and stands
upon the plain.

There they are in that deep pool formed by the river as it sweeps round
the rock. A buck! a noble fellow! Now he charges at the hounds, and
strikes the foremost beneath the water with his fore-feet; up they come
again to the surface--they hear their master's well-known shout--they
look round and see his welcome figure on the steep bank. Another moment,
a tremendous splash, and he is among his hounds, and all are swimming
towards their noble game. At them he comes with a fierce rush. Avoid him
as you best can, ye hunters, man and hounds!

Down the river the buck now swims, sometimes galloping over the
shallows, sometimes wading shoulder-deep, sometimes swimming through the
deep pools. Now he dashes down the fierce rapids and leaps the opposing
rocks, between which, the torrent rushes at a frightful pace. The hounds
are after him; the roaring of the water joins in their wild chorus; the
loud holloa of the huntsman is heard above every sound as he cheers the
pack on. He runs along the bank of the river, and again the enraged buck
turns to bay. He has this time taken a strong position: he stands in a
swift rapid about two feet deep; his thin legs cleave the stream as it
rushes past, and every hound is swept away as he attempts to stem the
current. He is a perfect picture: his nostrils are distended, his mane
is bristled up, his eyes flash, and he adds his loud bark of defiance to
the din around him. The hounds cannot touch him. Now for the huntsman's
part; he calls the stanchest seizers to his side, gives them a cheer on,
and steps into the torrent, knife in hand. Quick as lightning the buck
springs to the attack; but he has exposed himself, and at that moment
the tall lurchers are upon his ears; the huntsman leaps upon one side
and plunges the knife behind his shoulder. A tremendous struggle takes
place--the whole pack is upon him; still his dying efforts almost free
him from their hold: a mass of spray envelopes the whole scene. Suddenly
he falls--he dies--it is all over. The hounds are called off, and are
carefully examined for wounds.

The huntsman is now perhaps some miles from home, he, therefore, cuts
a long pole, and tying a large bunch of grass to one end, he sticks the
other end into the ground close to the river's edge where the elk is
lying. This marks the spot. He calls his hounds together and returns
homeward, and afterwards sends men to cut the buck up and bring the
flesh. Elk venison is very good, but is at all times more like beef than
English venison.

The foregoing may be considered a general description of elk-hunting,
although the incidents of the sport necessarily vary considerably.

The boar is our dangerous adversary, and he is easily known by the
character of the run. The hounds seldom open with such a burst upon the
scent as they do with an elk. The run is much slower; he runs down this
ravine and up that, never going straight away, and he generally comes to
bay after a run of ten minutes' duration.

A boar always chooses the very thickest part of the jungle as his
position for a bay, and from this he makes continual rushes at the
hounds.

The huntsman approaches the scene of the combat, breaking his way with
difficulty through the tangled jungle, until within about twenty yards
of the bay. He now cheers the hounds on to the attack, and if they are
worthy of their name, they instantly rush in to the boar regardless of
wounds. The huntsman is aware of the seizure by the grunting of the boar
and the tremendous confusion in the thick jungle; he immediately rushes
to the assistance of the pack, knife in hand.

A scene of real warfare meets his view--gaping wounds upon his best
hounds, the boar rushing through the jungle covered with dogs, and he
himself becomes the immediate object of his fury when observed.

No time is to be lost. Keeping behind the boar if possible, he rushes to
the bloody conflict, and drives the hunting-knife between the shoulders
in the endeavour to divide the spine. Should he happily effect this, the
boar falls stone dead; but if not, he repeats the thrust, keeping a good
look-out for the animal's tusks.

If the dogs were of not sufficient courage to rush in and seize the boar
when halloaed on, no man could approach him in a thick jungle with only
a hunting-knife, as he would in all probability have his inside ripped
out at the first charge. The animal is wonderfully active and ferocious,
and of immense power, constantly weighing 4 cwt.

The end of nearly every good seizer is being killed by a boar. The
better the dog the more likely he is to be killed, as he will be the
first to lead the attack, and in thick jungle he has no chance of
escaping from a wound.




CHAPTER III.

Minneria Lake--Brush with a Bull--An Awkward Vis-a-vis--A Bright
Thought--Bull Buffalo Receives his Small Change--What is Man?--Long Shot
with the Four-ounce--Charged by a Herd of Buffaloes--the Four-ounce
does Service--The 'Lola'--A Woman Killed by a Crocodile--Crocodile at
Bolgodde Lake--A Monster Crocodile--Death of a Crocodile.

THE foregoing description may serve as an introduction to the hill
sports of Ceylon. One animal, however, yet remains to be described, who
surpasses all others in dogged ferocity when once aroused. This is the
'buffalo.'

The haunts of this animal are in the hottest parts of Ceylon. In the
neighbourhood of lakes, swamps, and extensive plains, the buffalo exists
in large herds; wallowing in the soft mire, and passing two-thirds of
his time in the water itself, he may be almost termed amphibious.

He is about the size of a large ox, of immense bone and strength, very
active, and his hide is almost free from hair, giving a disgusting
appearance to his India-rubber-like skin. He carries his head in a
peculiar manner, the horns thrown back, and his nose projecting on a
level with his forehead, thus securing himself from a front shot in a
fatal part. This renders him a dangerous enemy, as he will receive
any number of balls from a small gun in the throat and chest without
evincing the least symptom of distress. The shoulder is the acknowledged
point to aim at, but from his disposition to face the guns this is a
difficult shot to obtain. Should he succeed in catching his antagonist,
his fury knows no bounds, and he gores his victim to death, trampling
and kneeling upon him till he is satisfied that life is extinct.

This sport would not be very dangerous in the forests, where the buffalo
could be easily stalked, and where escape would also be rendered less
difficult in case of accident; but as he is generally met with upon
the open plains, free from a single tree, he must be killed when once
brought to bay, or he will soon exhibit his qualifications for mischief.
There is a degree of uncertainty in their character which much increases
the danger of the pursuit. A buffalo may retreat at first sight with
every symptom of cowardice, and thus induce a too eager pursuit, when
he will suddenly become the assailant. I cannot explain their character
better than by describing the first wild buffaloes that I ever saw.

I had not been long in Ceylon, but having arrived in the island for the
sake of its wild sports, I had not been idle, and I had already made a
considerable bag of large game. Like most novices, however, I was guilty
of one great fault. I despised the game, and gave no heed to the many
tales of danger and hair-breadth escapes which attended the pursuit of
wild animals. This carelessness on my part arose from my first debut
having been extremely lucky; most shots had told well, and the animal
had been killed with such apparent ease that I had learnt to place an
implicit reliance in the rifle. The real fact was that I was like many
others; I had slaughtered a number of animals without understanding
their habits, and I was perfectly ignorant of the sport. This is now
many years ago, and it was then my first visit to the island. Some
places that were good spots for shooting in those days have since that
time been much disturbed, and are now no longer attractive to my eyes.
One of these places is Minneria Lake.

I was on a shooting trip accompanied by my brother, whom I will
designate as B. We had passed a toilsome day in pushing and dragging our
ponies for twenty miles along a narrow path through thick jungle, which
half-a-dozen natives in advance were opening before us with bill-hooks.
This had at one time been a good path, but was then overgrown. It is now
an acknowledged bridle road.

At 4 P.M., and eighty miles from Kandy, we emerged from the jungle, and
the view of Minneria Lake burst upon us, fully repaying us for our
day's march. It was a lovely afternoon. The waters of the lake; which
is twenty miles in circumference, were burnished by the setting sun.
The surrounding plains were as green as an English meadow, and beautiful
forest trees bordered the extreme boundaries of the plains like giant
warders of the adjoining jungle. Long promontories densely wooded
stretched far into the waters of the lake, forming sheltered nooks
and bays teeming with wild fowl. The deer browsed in herds on the wide
extent of plain, or lay beneath the shade of the spreading branches.
Every feature of lovely scenery was here presented. In some spots groves
of trees grew to the very water's edge; in others the wide plains, free
from a single stem or bush, stretched for miles along the edge of the
lake; thickly wooded hills bordered the extreme end of its waters, and
distant blue mountains mingled their dim summits with the clouds.

It was a lovely scene which we enjoyed in silence, while our ponies
feasted upon the rich grass.

The village of Minneria was three miles farther on, and our coolies,
servants, and baggage were all far behind us. We had, therefore, no
rifles or guns at hand, except a couple of shot-guns, which were carried
by our horsekeepers: for these we had a few balls.

For about half an hour we waited in the impatient expectation of the
arrival of our servants with the rifles. The afternoon was wearing away,
and they did not appear. We could wait no longer, but determined to
take a stroll and examine the country. We therefore left our horses and
proceeded.

The grass was most verdant, about the height of a field fit for the
scythe in England, but not so thick. From this the snipe arose at every
twenty or thirty paces, although, the ground was perfectly dry. Crossing
a large meadow, and skirting the banks of the lake, from which the ducks
and teal rose in large flocks, we entered a long neck of jungle which
stretched far into the lake. This was not above two hundred paces in
width, and we soon emerged upon an extensive plain bordered by fine
forest, the waters of the lake stretching far away upon our left, like a
sheet of gold. A few large rocks rose above the surface near the shore;
these were covered with various kinds of wild fowl. The principal
tenants of the plain were wild buffaloes.

A herd of about a hundred were lying in a swampy hollow about a quarter
of a mile from us: Several single bulls were dotted about the green
surface of the level plain, and on the opposite shores of the lake
were many dark patches undistinguishable in the distance; these were in
reality herds of buffaloes. There was not a sound in the wide expanse
before us, except the harsh cry of the water-fowl that our presence had
already disturbed--not a breath of air moved the leaves of the trees
which shaded us--and the whole scene was that of undisturbed nature.
The sun had now sunk low upon the horizon, and the air was comparatively
cool. The multitude of buffaloes enchanted us, and with our two light
double-barrels, we advanced to the attack of the herd before us.

We had not left the obscurity of the forest many seconds before we were
observed. The herd started up from their muddy bed and gazed at us with
astonishment. It was a fair open plain of some thousand acres, bounded
by the forest which we had just quitted on the one side, and by the lake
on the other; thus there was no cover for our advance, and all we could
do was to push on.

As we approached the herd they ranged up in a compact body, presenting
a very regular line in front. From this line seven large bulls stepped
forth, and from their vicious appearance seemed disposed to show fight.
In the meantime we were running up, and were soon within thirty paces of
them. At this distance the main body of the herd suddenly wheeled round
and thundered across the plain in full retreat. One of the bulls at the
same moment charged straight at us, but when within twenty paces of
the guns he turned to one side, and instantly received two balls in the
shoulder, B. and I having fired at the same moment. As luck would have
it, his blade-bone was thus broken, and he fell upon his knees, but
recovering himself in an instant, he retreated on three legs to the
water.

We now received assistance from an unexpected quarter. One of the large
bulls, his companions, charged after him with great fury, and soon
overtaking the wounded beast, he struck him full in the side, throwing
him over with a great shock on the muddy border of the lake. Here the
wounded animal lay unable to rise, and his conqueror commenced a slow
retreat across the plain.

Leaving B. to extinguish the wounded buffalo, I gave chase to the
retreating bull. At an easy canter he would gain a hundred paces and
then, turning, he would face me; throwing his nose up, and turning his
head to one side with a short grunt, he would advance quickly for a few
paces, and then again retreat as I continued to approach.

In this manner he led me a chase of about a mile along the banks of the
lake, but he appeared determined not to bring the fight to an issue at
close quarters. Cursing his cowardice, I fired a long shot at him, and
reloading my last spare ball I continued the chase, led on by ignorance
and excitement.

The lake in one part stretched in a narrow creek into the plain, and
the bull now directed his course into the angle formed by this turn.
I thought that I lead him in a corner, and, redoubling my exertions, I
gained upon him considerably. He retreated slowly to the very edge of
the creek, and I had gained so fast upon him that I was not thirty paces
distant, when he plunged into the water and commenced swimming across
the creek. This was not more than sixty yards in breadth, and I knew
that I could now bring him to action.

Running round the borders of the creek as fast as I could, I arrived at
the opposite side on his intended landing-place just as his black form
reared from the deep water and gained the shallows, into which I had
waded knee-deep to meet him. I now experienced that pleasure as he stood
sullenly eyeing me within fifteen paces. Poor stupid fellow! I would
willingly, in my ignorance, have betted ten to one upon the shot, so
certain was I of his death in another instant.

I took a quick but steady aim at his chest, at the point of connection
with the throat. The smoke of the barrel passed to one side;--there he
stood--he had not flinched; he literally had not moved a muscle.
The only change that had taken place was in his eye; this, which had
hitherto been merely sullen, was now beaming with fury; but his form was
as motionless as a statue. A stream of blood poured from a wound within
an inch of the spot at which I had aimed; had it not been for this fact,
I should not have believed him struck.

Annoyed at the failure of the shot, I tried him with the left-hand
barrel at the same hole. The report of the gun echoed over the lake, but
there he stood as though he bore a charmed life;--an increased flow
of blood from the wound and additional lustre in his eye were the only
signs of his being struck.

I was unloaded, and had not a single ball remaining. It was now his
turn. I dared not turn to retreat, as I knew he would immediately
charge, and we stared each other out of countenance.

With a short grunt he suddenly sprang forward, but fortunately, as I did
not move, he halted; he had, however, decreased his distance, and we now
gazed at each other within ten paces. I began to think buffalo-shooting
somewhat dangerous, and I would have given something to have been a mile
away, but ten times as much to have had my four-ounce rifle in my hand.
Oh, how I longed for that rifle in this moment of suspense! Unloaded,
without the power of defence, with the absolute certainty of a charge
from an overpowering brute, my hand instinctively found the handle of my
hunting-knife, a useless weapon against such a foe.

Knowing that B. was not aware of my situation at the distance which
separated us (about a mile), without taking my eyes from the figure
before me, I raised my hand to my mouth and gave a long and loud
whistle; this was a signal that I knew would be soon answered if heard.

With a stealthy step and another short grunt, the bull again advanced a
couple of paces towards me. He seemed aware of my helplessness, and
he was the picture of rage and fury, pawing the water and stamping
violently with his forefeet.

This was very pleasant! I gave myself up for lost, but putting as fierce
an expression into my features as I could possibly assume, I stared
hopelessly at my maddened antagonist.

Suddenly a bright thought flashed through my mind. Without taking my
eyes off the animal before me, I put a double charge of powder down the
right-hand barrel, and tearing off a piece of my shirt, I took all the
money from my pouch, three shillings in sixpenny pieces, and two anna
pieces, which I luckily had with me in this small coin for paying
coolies. Quickly making them into a rouleau with the piece of rag, I
rammed them down the barrel, and they were hardly well home before the
bull again sprang forward. So quick was it that I had no time to replace
the ramrod, and I threw it in the water, bringing my gun on full cock in
the same instant. However, he again halted, being now within about
seven paces from me, and we again gazed fixedly at each other, but with
altered feelings on my part. I had faced him hopelessly with an empty
gun for more than a quarter of an hour, which seemed a century. I now
had a charge in my gun, which I knew if reserved till he was within a
foot of the muzzle would certainly floor him, and I awaited his onset
with comparative carelessness, still keeping my eyes opposed to his
gaze.

At this time I heard a splashing in the water behind me, accompanied by
the hard breathing of something evidently distressed. The next moment I
heard B.'s voice. He could hardly speak for want of breath, having run
the whole way to my rescue, but I could understand that he had only one
barrel loaded, and no bullets left. I dared not turn my face from the
buffalo, but I cautioned B. to reserve his fire till the bull should be
close into me, and then to aim at the head.

The words were hardly uttered, when, with the concentrated rage of the
last twenty minutes, he rushed straight at me! It was the work of an
instant. B. fired without effect. The horns were lowered, their points
were on either side of me, and the muzzle of the gun barely touched his
forehead when I pulled the trigger, and three shillings' worth of small
change rattled into his hard head. Down he went, and rolled over with
the suddenly checked momentum of his charge. Away went B. and I as
fast as our heels would carry us, through the water and over the plain,
knowing that he was not dead but only stunned. There was a large fallen
tree about half a mile from us, whose whitened branches, rising high
above the ground, offered a tempting asylum. To this we directed our
flying steps, and, after a run of a hundred yards, we turned and looked
behind us. He had regained his feet and was following us slowly. We now
experienced the difference of feeling between hunting and being hunted,
and fine sport we must have afforded him.

On he came, but fortunately so stunned by the collision with her
Majesty's features upon the coin which he had dared to oppose that he
could only reel forward at a slow canter. By degrees even this pace
slackened, and he fell. We were only too glad to be able to reduce our
speed likewise, but we had no sooner stopped to breathe, than he was
again up and after us. At length, however, we gained the tree, and we
beheld him with satisfaction stretched powerless upon the ground, but
not dead, within two hundred yards of us.

We retreated under cover of the forest to the spot at which we had left
the horses, fortunately meeting no opposition from wild animals, and we
shortly arrived at the village at which we took up our quarters, vowing
vengeance on the following morning for the defeat that we had sustained.

A man is a poor defenceless wretch if left to defend himself against
wild animals with the simple natural weapons of arms, legs, and teeth. A
tom-cat would almost be a match for him. He has legs which will neither
serve him for pursuit or escape if he is forced to trust only in his
speed. He has strength of limb which is useless without some artificial
weapon. He is an animal who, without the power of reason, could not even
exist in a wild state; his brain alone gives him the strength to support
his title of lord of the creation.

Nevertheless, a lord of the creation does not appear in much majesty
when running for his life from an infuriated buffalo;--the assumed title
sits uneasily upon him when, with scarcely a breath left in his body, he
struggles along till he is ready to drop with fatigue, expecting to be
overtaken at every step. We must certainly have exhibited poor specimens
of the boasted sway of man over the brute creation could a stranger have
witnessed our flight on this occasion.

The next morning we were up at daybreak, and we returned to the
battlefield of the previous evening in the full expectation of seeing
our wounded antagonist lying dead where we had left him. In this we were
disappointed--he was gone, and we never saw him again.

I now had my long two-ounce and my four-ounce rifles with me, and I was
fully prepared for a deep revenge for the disgrace of yesterday.

The morning was clear but cloudy; a heavy thunderstorm during the night
had cooled the air, and the whole plain was glistening with bright
drops; the peacocks were shrieking from the tree-tops and spreading
their gaudy plumage to the cool breeze; and the whole face of nature
seemed refreshed. We felt the same invigorating spirit, and we took
a long survey of the many herds of buffaloes upon the plain before we
could determine which we should first attack.

A large single bull, who had been lying in a swampy hollow unobserved
by us, suddenly sprang up at about three hundred yards' distance, and
slowly cantered off. I tried the long two-ounce rifle at him, but,
taking too great an elevation, I fired over him. The report, however,
had the effect of turning him, and, instead of retreating, he wheeled
round and attempted to pass between the guns and the banks of the lake.
We were about three hundred yards from the water's edge, and he was soon
passing us at full gallop at right angles, about midway or a hundred and
fifty yards distant.

I had twelve drachms of powder in the four-ounce rifle, and I took a
flying shot at his shoulder. No visible effect was produced, and the
ball ricochetted completely across the broad surface of the lake (which
was no more than a mile wide at this part) in continuous splashes. The
gun-bearers said I had fired behind him, but I had distinctly heard the
peculiar 'fut' which a ball makes upon striking an animal, and
although the passage of the ball across the lake appeared remarkable,
nevertheless I felt positive that it had first passed through some
portion of the animal.

Away the bull sped over the plain at unabated speed for about two
hundred paces, when he suddenly turned and charged toward the guns. On
he came for about a hundred yards, but evidently slackening his speed at
every stride. At length he stopped altogether. His mouth was wide open,
and I could now distinguish a mass of bloody foam upon his lips and
nostrils--the ball had in reality passed through his lungs, and, making
its exit from the opposite shoulder, it had even then flown across the
lake. This was the proof of the effect of the twelve drachms of powder.

Having reloaded, I now advanced towards him, and soon arrived within
fifty paces. He was the facsimile of the bull that had chased us on the
previous day--the same picture of fury and determination; and, crouching
low, he advanced a few paces, keeping his eyes fixed upon us as though
we were already his own.

A short cough, accompanied by a rush of blood from his mouth, seemed to
cause him great uneasiness, and he halted.

Again we advanced till within twenty paces of him. I would not fire, as
I saw that he already had enough, and I wished to see how long he could
support a wound through the lungs, as my safety in buffalo-shooting
might in future depend upon this knowledge.

The fury of his spirit seemed to war with death, and, although reeling
with weakness and suffocation, he again attempted to come on. It was
his last effort; his eyes rolled convulsively, he gave a short grunt of
impotent rage, and the next moment he fell upon his back with his heels
in the air; he was stone dead, and game to the last moment.

I had thus commenced a revenge for the insult of yesterday; I had proved
the wonderful power of the four-ounce rifle--a weapon destined to make
great havoc amongst the heavy game of Ceylon.

Upon turning from the carcass before us, we observed to our surprise
that a large herd of buffaloes, that were at a great distance when we
had commenced the attack upon the bull, had now approached to within
a few hundred yards, and were standing in a dense mass, attentively
watching us. Without any delay we advanced towards them, and, upon
arriving within about a hundred paces, we observed that the herd was
headed by two large bulls, one of which was the largest that I had
ever seen. The whole herd was bellowing and pawing the ground. They had
winded the blood of the dead bull and appeared perfectly maddened.

We continued to advance, and we were within about ninety paces of them
when suddenly the whole herd of about two hundred buffaloes, headed by
the two bulls before noticed, dashed straight towards us at full gallop.
So simultaneous was the onset that it resembled a sudden charge of
cavalry, and the ground vibrated beneath their heavy hoofs. Their tails
were thrown high above their backs, and the mad and overpowering phalanx
of heads and horns came rushing forward as though to sweep us at once
from the face of the earth.

There was not an instant to be lost; already but a short space
intervened between us and apparently certain destruction. Our
gun-bearers were almost in the act of flight; but catching hold of the
man who carried the long two-ounce rifle, and keeping him by my side, I
awaited the irresistible onset with the four-ounce.

The largest of the bulls was some yards in advance, closely followed by
his companion, and the herd in a compact mass came thundering down at
their heels. Only fifty yards separated us; we literally felt among
them, and already experienced a sense of being over-run. I did not look
at the herd, but I kept my eye upon the big bull leader. On they flew,
and were within thirty paces of us, when I took a steady shot with the
four-ounce, and the leading bull plunged head-foremost in the turf,
turning a complete summersault. Snatching the two-ounce from the
petrified gun-bearer, I had just time for a shot as the second bull was
within fifteen paces, and at the flash of the rifle his horns ploughed
up the turf, and he lay almost at our feet. That lucky shot turned
the whole herd. When certain destruction threatened us, they suddenly
wheeled to their left when within twenty paces of the guns, and left us
astonished victors of the field. We poured an ineffectual volley into
the retreating herd from the light guns as they galloped off in full
retreat, and reloaded as quickly as possible, as the two bulls, although
floored, were still alive. They were, however, completely powerless, and
a double-barrelled gun gave each the "coup-de-grace" by a ball in the
forehead. Both rifle shots had struck at the point of junction of
the throat and chest, and the four-ounce ball had passed out of the
hind-quarter. Our friend of yesterday, although hit in precisely the
same spot, had laughed at the light guns.

Although I have since killed about two hundred wild buffaloes I have
never witnessed another charge by a herd. This was an extraordinary
occurrence, and fortunately stands alone in buffalo-shooting. Were it
not for the two heavy rifles our career might have terminated in an
unpleasant manner. As I before mentioned, this part of the country
was seldom or never disturbed at the time of which I write, and the
buffaloes were immensely numerous and particularly savage, nearly always
turning to bay and showing good sport when attacked.

Having cut out the tongues from the two bulls, we turned homeward to
breakfast. Skirting along the edge of the lake, which abounded with
small creeks, occasioning us many circuits, we came suddenly upon a
single bull, who, springing from his lair of mud and high grass, plunged
into a creek, and, swimming across, exposed himself to a dead shot as
he landed on the opposite bank about a hundred paces from us. The
four-ounce struck him in the hind-quarters and broke the hip joint, and,
continuing its course along his body, it pierced his lungs and lodged
in the skin of the throat. The bull immediately fell, but regaining
his feet he took to the water, and swam to a small island of high grass
about thirty yards from the shore. Upon gaining this he turned and faced
us, but in a few seconds he fell unable to rise, and received a merciful
shot in the head, which despatched him.

We were just leaving the border of the lake on our way to the village,
when two cow buffaloes sprang up from one of the numerous inlets and
retreated at full gallop towards the jungle, offering a splendid side
shot at about a hundred paces. The leading cow plunged head-foremost
into the grass as the four-ounce struck her through both shoulders. She
was a fine young cow, and we cut some steaks from her in case we should
find a scarcity of provisions at Minneria and, quitting the shores of
the lake, we started for breakfast.

It was only 8 A.M. when we arrived. I had bagged five buffaloes, four of
which were fine bulls. Our revenge was complete, and I had proved that
the four-ounce was perfectly irresistible if held straight with the
heavy charge of twelve drachms of powder. Since that time I have
frequently used sixteen drachms (one ounce) of powder to the charge, but
the recoil is then very severe, although the effect upon an animal with
a four-ounce steel-tipped conical ball is tremendous.

On our return to the village of Minneria we found a famous breakfast,
for which a bath in the neighbouring brook increased an appetite already
sharpened by the morning exercise. The buffalo steaks were coarse and
bad, as tough as leather, and certainly should never be eaten if better
food can be obtained. The tongues are very rich, but require salting.

In those days Minneria was not spoiled by visitors, and supplies were
accordingly at a cheap rate--large fowls at one penny each, milk at any
price that you chose to give for it. This is now much changed, and the
only thing that is still ridiculously cheap is fish.

Give a man sixpence to catch you as many as he can in the morning, and
he forthwith starts on his piscatorial errand with a large basket, cone
shaped, of two feet diameter at the bottom and about eight inches at the
top. This basket is open at both ends, and is about two feet in length.

The fish that is most sought after is the 'lola.' He is a ravenous
fellow, in appearance between a trout and a carp, having the habits of
the former, but the clumsy shoulders of the latter. He averages about
three pounds, although he is often caught of nine or ten pounds weight.
Delighting in the shallows, he lies among the weeds at the bottom,
to which he always retreats when disturbed. Aware of his habits, the
fisherman walks knee-deep in the water, and at every step he plunges the
broad end of the basket quickly to the bottom. He immediately feels the
fish strike against the sides, and putting his hand down through the
aperture in the top of the basket he captures him, and deposits him in a
basket slung on his back.

These 'lola' are delicious eating, being very like an eel in flavour,
and I have known one man catch forty in a morning with no other
apparatus than this basket.

Minneria Lake, like all others in Ceylon, swarms with crocodiles of a
very large size. Early in the morning and late in the evening they
may be seen lying upon the banks like logs of trees. I have frequently
remarked that a buffalo, shot within a few yards of the lake, has
invariably disappeared during the night, leaving an undoubted track
where he has been dragged to the water by the crocodiles. These brutes
frequently attack the natives when fishing or bathing, but I have never
heard of their pursuing any person upon dry land.

I remember an accident having occurred at Madampi, on the west coast
of Ceylon, about seven years ago, the day before I passed through
the village. A number of women were employed in cutting rushes for
mat-making, and were about mid-deep in the water. The horny tail of a
large crocodile was suddenly seen above the water among the group of
women, and in another instant one of them was seized by the thigh and
dragged towards the deeper part of the stream. In vain the terrified
creature shrieked for assistance; the horror-stricken group had rushed
to the shore, and a crowd of spectators on the bank offered no aid
beyond their cries. It was some distance before the water deepened, and
the unfortunate woman was dragged for many yards, sometimes beneath the
water, sometimes above the surface, rending the air with her screams,
until at length the deep water hid her from their view. She was never
again seen.

Some of these reptiles grow to a very large size, attaining the length
of twenty feet, and eight feet in girth, but the common size is fourteen
feet. They move slowly upon land, but are wonderfully fast and active
in the water. They usually lie in wait for their prey under some hollow
bank in a deep pool, and when the unsuspecting deer or even buffalo
stoops his head to drink, he is suddenly seized by the nose and dragged
beneath the water. Here he is speedily drowned and consumed at leisure.

The two lower and front teeth of a crocodile project through the upper
jaw, and their white points attract immediate notice as they protrude
through the brown scales on the upper lip. When the mouth is closed, the
jaws are thus absolutely locked together.

It is a common opinion that the scales on the back of a crocodile will
turn a ball; this is a vulgar error. The scales are very tough and hard,
but a ball from a common fowling-piece will pass right through the
body. I have even seen a hunting-knife driven at one blow deep into
the hardest part of the back; and this was a crocodile of a large
size, about fourteen feet long, that I shot at a place called Bolgodde,
twenty-two miles from Colombo.

A man had been setting nets for fish, and was in the act of swimming
to the shore, when he was seized and drowned by a crocodile. The next
morning two buffaloes were dragged into the water close to the spot, and
it was supposed that these murders were committed by the same crocodile.
I was at Colombo at the time, and, hearing of the accident, I rode off
to Bolgodde to try my hand at catching him.

Bolgodde is a very large lake of many miles in circumference, abounding
with crocodiles, widgeon, teal, and ducks.

On arrival that evening, the moodeliar (headman) pointed out the spot
where the man had been destroyed, and where the buffaloes had been
dragged in by the crocodile. One buffalo had been entirely devoured, but
the other had merely lost his head, and his carcass was floating in a
horrible state of decomposition near the bank. It was nearly dark, so I
engaged a small canoe to be in readiness by break of day.

Just as the light streaked the horizon I stepped into the canoe.
This required some caution, as it was the smallest thing that can be
conceived to support two persons. It consisted of the hollow trunk of
a tree, six feet in length and about one foot in diameter. A small
outrigger prevented it from upsetting, but it was not an inch from the
surface of the water when I took my narrow seat, and the native in the
stern paddled carefully towards the carcass of the buffalo.

Upon approaching within a hundred yards of the floating carcass, I
counted five forms within a few yards of the flesh. These objects were
not above nine inches square, and appeared like detached pieces of
rough bark. I knew them to be the foreheads of different crocodiles, and
presently one moved towards the half-consumed buffalo. His long head and
shoulders projected from the water as he attempted to fix his fore-claws
into the putrid flesh; this, however, rolled over towards him, and
prevented him from getting a hold; but the gaping jaws nevertheless made
a wide breach in the buffalo's flank. I was now within thirty yards of
them, and, being observed, they all dived immediately to the bottom.

The carcass was lying within a few yards of the bank, where the water
was extremely deep and clear. Several large trees grew close to the edge
and formed a good hiding-place; I therefore landed, and, sending the
canoe to a distance, I watched the water.

I had not been five minutes in this position before I saw in the water
at my feet, in a deep hole close to the bank, the immense form of a
crocodile as he was slowly rising from his hiding-place to the surface.
He appeared to be about eighteen feet long, and he projected his horny
head from the surface, bubbled, and then floated with only his forehead
and large eyes above the water. He was a horrible-looking monster, and
from his size I hoped he was the villain that had committed the late
depredations. He was within three yards of me; and, although I stood
upon the bank, his great round eyes gazed at me without a symptom of
fear. The next moment I put a two-ounce ball exactly between them, and
killed him stone dead. He gave a convulsive slap with his tail, which
made the water foam, and, turning upon his back, he gradually sank,
till at length I could only distinguish the long line of his white belly
twenty feet below me.

Not having any apparatus for bringing him to the surface, I again took
to the canoe, as a light breeze that had sprung up was gradually moving
the carcass of the buffalo away. This I slowly followed, until it at
length rested in a wide belt of rushes which grew upon the shallows near
the shore. I pushed the canoe into the rushes within four yards of the
carcass, keeping to windward to avoid the sickening smell.

I had not been long in this position before the body suddenly rolled
over as though attacked by something underneath the water, and the next
moment the tall reeds brushed against the sides of the canoe, being
violently agitated in a long line, evidently by a crocodile at the
bottom.

The native in the stern grew as pale as a black can turn with fright,
and instantly began to paddle the canoe away. This, however, I soon
replaced in its former position, and then took his paddle away to
prevent further accidents. There sat the captain of the fragile vessel
in the most abject state of terror. We were close to the shore, and the
water was not more than three feet deep, and yet he dared not jump out
of the canoe, as the rushes were again brushing against its sides, being
moved by the hidden beast at the bottom. There was no help for him,
so, after vainly imploring me to shove the canoe into deep water, he at
length sat still.

In a few minutes the body of the buffalo again moved, and the head and
shoulders of a crocodile appeared above water and took a bite of some
pounds of flesh. I could not get a shot at the head from his peculiar
position, but I put a ball through his shoulders, and immediately shoved
the canoe astern. Had I not done this, we should most likely have been
upset, as the wounded brute began to lash out with his tail in all
directions, till he at length retired to the bottom among the rushes.
Here I could easily track him, as he slowly moved along, by the movement
of the reeds. Giving the native the paddle, I now by threats induced him
to keep the canoe over the very spot where the rushes were moving, and
we slowly followed on the track, while I kept watch in the bow of the
canoe with a rifle.

Suddenly the movement in the rushes ceased, and the canoe stopped
accordingly. I leaned slightly over the side to look into the water,
when up came a large air-bubble, and directly afterwards an apparition
in the shape of some fifteen pounds of putrid flesh. The stench was
frightful, but I knew my friend must be very bad down below to disgorge
so sweet a morsel. I therefore took the paddle and poked for him; the
water being shallow, I felt him immediately. Again the rushes moved; I
felt the paddle twist as his scaly back glided under it, and a pair of
gaping jaws appeared above the water, wide open and within two feet of
the canoe. The next moment his head appeared, and the two-ounce ball
shattered his brain. He sank to the bottom, the rushes moved slightly
and were then still.

I now put the canoe ashore, and cutting a strong stick, with a crook at
one end, I again put out to the spot and dragged for him. He was quite
dead; and catching him under the fore-leg, I soon brought him gently to
the surface of the water. I now made fast a line to his fore-leg, and we
towed him slowly to the village, the canoe being level with the water's
edge.

His weight in the water was a mere trifle, but on arrival at the village
on the banks of the lake, the villagers turned out with great glee,
and fastened ropes to different parts of his body to drag him out. This
operation employed about twenty men. The beast was about fourteen feet
long; and he was no sooner on shore than the natives cut him to pieces
with axes, and threw the sections into the lake to be devoured by his
own species. This was a savage kind of revenge, which appeared to afford
them great satisfaction.

Taking a large canoe, I paddled along the shores of the lake with
a shot-gun, and made a good bag of ducks and teal, and returned to
breakfast. The fatness and flavour of the wild ducks in Ceylon are quite
equal to the best in England.




CHAPTER IV.

Equipment for a Hunting Trip--In Chase of a Herd of Buffaloes--Hard
Work--Close Quarters--Six Feet from the Muzzle--A Black with a Devil.

There is one thing necessary to the enjoyment of sport in Ceylon, and
without which no amount of game can afford thorough pleasure; this is
personal comfort. Unlike a temperate climate, where mere attendance
becomes a luxury, the pursuit of game in a tropical country is attended
with immense fatigue and exhaustion. The intense heat of the sun, the
dense and suffocating exhalations from swampy districts, the constant
and irritating attacks from insects, all form drawbacks to sport that
can only be lessened by excellent servants and by the most perfect
arrangements for shelter and supplies. I have tried all methods of
travelling, and I generally manage to combine good sport with every
comfort and convenience.

A good tent, perfectly waterproof, and of so light a construction as to
travel with only two bearers, is absolutely indispensable. My tent is on
the principle of an umbrella, fifteen feet in diameter, and will house
three persons comfortably. A circular table fits in two halves round
the tent-pole; three folding chairs have ample space; three beds can be
arranged round the tent walls; the boxes of clothes, etc., stow under
the beds; and a dressing-table and gun-rack complete the furniture.

Next in importance to the tent is a good canteen. Mine is made of
japanned block tin, and contains in close-fitting compartments an entire
dinner and breakfast service for three persons, including everything
that can be required in an ordinary establishment. This is slung upon a
bamboo, carried by two coolies.

Clothes must always be packed in tin boxes, or the whole case will most
likely be devoured by white ants.

Cooking utensils must be carried in abundance, together with a lantern,
axe, bill-hook, tinder-box, matches, candles, oil, tea, coffee, sugar,
biscuits, wine, brandy, sauces, etc., a few hams, some tins of preserved
meats and soups, and a few bottles of curacea, a glass of which, in
the early dawn, after a cup of hot coffee and a biscuit, is a fine
preparation for a day's work.

I once tried the rough system of travelling, and started off with
nothing but my guns, clothes, a box of biscuits, and a few bottles
of brandy--no bed, no pillow, no tent nor chairs or table, but, as my
distressed servant said, 'no nothing.' This was many years ago, when
the excitement of wild sports was sufficient to laugh at discomfort.
I literally depended upon my gun for food, and my cooking utensils
consisted of one saucepan and a gridiron, a 'stew' and a 'fry' being all
that I looked forward to in the way of gourmandism. Sleeping on the bare
ground in native huts, dining cross-legged upon mother earth, with a
large leaf as a substitute for a plate, a cocoa-nut shell for a glass,
my hunting-knife comprising all my cutlery, I thus passed through a
large district of wild country, accompanied by B., and I never had more
exciting sport.

It was on this occasion that I had a memorable hunt in the neighbourhood
of Narlande, within thirty miles of Kandy. It was our first day's
stage, and, upon our arrival, at about 2 P.M., we left our guns at the
post-holder's hut, while we proceeded to the river to bathe.

We were hardly dressed before a native came running to tell us that
several elephants were devouring his crop of korrakan--a grain something
like clover-seed, upon which the people in this part almost entirely
subsist.

Without a moment's delay we sent for the guns. The post-holder was a
good tracker, and a few minutes of sharp walking through a path bordered
on either side by dense thorny bush brought us to a chena jungle ground,
or cultivated field. The different watch-houses erected in the large
trees were full of people, who were shrieking and yelling at the top of
their voices, having just succeeded in scaring the elephants into the
jungle.

The whole of the country in this neighbourhood has, in successive ages,
been cleared and cultivated: the forest has been felled. The poverty
of the soil yields only one crop, and the lately cleared field is again
restored to nature. Dense thorny jungle immediately springs up, which a
man cannot penetrate without being torn to pieces by the briars. This is
called chena jungle, and is always the favourite resort of elephants and
all wild animals, the impervious character of the bush forming a secure
retreat.

From these haunts the elephants commit nocturnal descents upon the crops
of the natives. The korrakan is a sweet grass, growing about two feet
high, and so partial are the elephants to this food that they will
invade the isolated field even during the daytime. Driven out by shouts
and by shots fired by the natives from their secure watch-houses, they
will retreat to their cover, but in a few minutes they reappear from
another part of the jungle and again commence their depredations.

The havoc committed by a large herd of elephants can well be imagined.

In this instance there were only three elephants--a large bull, with a
mother and her young one, or what we call a 'poonchy.' On entering the
korrakan field we distinctly heard them breaking the boughs at no great
distance. We waited for some time to see if they would return to the
field; but they apparently were aware of some impending danger, as they
did not move from their strong position. This was a cunning family of
elephants, as they had retreated 'down wind,' and the jungle being so
thick that we could with difficulty follow even upon their track, made
it very doubtful whether we should kill them.

We cautiously entered. It was one mass of thorns, and we were shortly
compelled to crawl upon our hands and knees. This was arduous work,
as we had great difficulty in carrying the guns so as to avoid the
slightest noise. I was leading the way, and could distinctly hear the
rustling of the leaves as the elephants moved their ears. We were now
within a few feet of them, but not an inch of their bodies could be
seen, so effectually were they hidden by the thick jungle. Suddenly we
heard the prolonged wh-r-r, wh-r-r-r-r-r, as one of the elephants winded
us: the shrill trumpet sounded in another direction, and the crash
through the jungle took place which nothing but an elephant can produce.
In such dense jungle, where the elephants are invisible, this crash is
most exciting if close at hand, as in the present instance.

It is at the first burst impossible to tell whether the elephant is
coming at you or rushing away. In either case it is extremely dangerous,
as these chena jungles are almost devoid of trees; thus there is no
cover of sufficient strength to protect a man should he attempt to jump
on one side, and he may even be run over by accident.

A few moments assured us of their retreat, and we instantly followed
upon their track, running at full speed along the lane which they had
crushed in their headlong flight. This was no easy matter; the jungle
itself was certainly broken down, but innumerable hooked thorns, hanging
from rope-like creepers, which had been torn down by the rush of the
elephants, caught us upon every side. In a few minutes our clothes were
in rags, and we were bleeding from countless scratches, but we continued
the chase as fast as we could run upon the track. The prickly cactus
which abounds in these jungles, and grows to the height of twenty feet,
in some places checked us for a few moments, being crushed into a heap
by the horny-footed beasts before us. These obstacles overcome, we again
pushed on at a rapid pace, occasionally listening for a sound of the
retreating game.

We now observed that the herd had separated; the bull had gone off in
one direction, and the female with her half-grown poonchy in another.
Following the latter, we again pushed on at a quick run, as the
elephants had evidently gone off at a great pace and were far in
advance. For about half an hour we had continued the pursuit at the same
speed, when we suddenly heard the warning wh-r-r-r-r as the elephants
winded us at a distance of 200 yards, and the crash instantly following
this sound told us too plainly that the game was fearfully on the alert,
and gave us little hopes of overtaking them, as they were travelling
directly down wind.

Speed was our only chance, and again we rushed forward in hot pursuit
through the tangled briars, which yielded to our weight, although we
were almost stripped of clothes. Another half hour passed, and we
had heard no further signs of the game. We stopped to breathe, and we
listened attentively for the slightest sound. A sudden crash in the
jungle at a great distance assured us that we were once more discovered.
The chase seemed hopeless; the heat was most oppressive; and we had been
running for the last hour at a killing pace through a most distressing
country. Once more, however, we started off, determined to keep up the
pursuit as long as daylight would permit. It was now 5 P.M., and we
had one hour left before darkness would set in. The wind had entirely
ceased, leaving a perfect calm; the air was thick and heavy, and the
heat was thus rendered doubly fatiguing. We noticed, however, that the
track of the elephants had doubled back instead of continuing in the
direct line that we had followed so long. This gave us hope, as the
elephants no longer had the advantage of the wind, and we pushed on as
fast as we could go.

It was about half an hour before dusk, and our patience and hopes were
alike exhausted, when we suddenly once more heard the wh-r-r-r of the
elephants winding us within a hundred yards. It was our last chance, and
with redoubled speed we rushed after them.

Suddenly we broke from the high jungle in which we had been for the last
two hours, and found ourselves in a chena jungle of two years' growth,
about five feet high, but so thick and thorny that it resembled one vast
blackthorn hedge, through which no man could move except in the track of
the retreating elephants.

To my delight, on entering this low jungle, I saw the female at about
forty yards' distance, making off at a great pace. I had a light
double-barrelled gun in my hand, and, in the hopes of checking her pace,
I fired a flying shot at her ear. She had been hunted so long that she
was well inclined to fight, and she immediately slackened her speed so
much that in a few instants I was at her tail, so close that I could
have slapped her. Still she ploughed her way through the thick thorns,
and not being able to pass her owing to the barrier of jungle, I could
only follow close at her heels and take my chance of a shot. At length,
losing all patience, I fired my remaining barrel under her tail, giving
it an upward direction in the hope of disabling her spine.

A cloud of smoke hung over me for a second, and, throwing my empty
gun on one side, I put my hand behind me for a spare rifle. I felt the
welcome barrel pushed into my hand at the same moment that I saw the
infuriated head of the elephant with ears cocked charging through
the smoke! It was the work of an instant. I had just time to cock the
two-ounce rifle and take a steady aim. The next moment we were in a
cloud of smoke, but as I fired, I felt certain of her. The smoke cleared
from the thick bushes, and she lay dead at SIX FEET from the spot where
I stood. The ball was in the centre of her forehead, and B., who had
fired over my shoulder so instantaneously with me that I was not aware
of it, had placed his ball within three inches of mine. Had she been
missed, I should have fired my last shot.

This had been a glorious hunt; many miles had been gone over, but by
great luck, when the wind dropped and the elephant altered her course,
she had been making a circuit for the very field of korrakan at which
we had first found her. We were thus not more than three miles from our
resting-place, and the trackers who know every inch of the country, soon
brought us to the main road.

The poonchy and the bull elephant, having both separated from the
female, escaped.

One great cause of danger in shooting in thick jungles is the obscurity
occasioned by the smoke of the first barrel; this cannot escape from the
surrounding bushes for some time, and effectually prevents a certain aim
with the remaining barrel. In wet weather this is much increased.

For my own part I dislike shooting in thick jungles, and I very seldom
do so. It is extremely dangerous, and is like shooting in the dark; you
never see the game until you can almost touch it, and the labour
and pain of following up elephants through thorny jungle is beyond
description.

On our return to the post-holder's hut we dined and prepared for sleep.
It was a calm night, and not a sound disturbed the stillness of the air.
The tired coolies and servants were fast asleep, the lamp burnt dimly,
being scantily fed with oil, and we were in the act of lying down to
rest when a frightful scream made us spring to our feet. There was
something so unearthly in the yell that we could hardly believe it
human. The next moment a figure bounded into the little room that we
occupied. It was a black, stark naked. His tongue, half bitten through,
protruded from his mouth; his bloodshot eyes, with a ghastly stare, were
straining from their sockets, and he stood gazing at us with his arms
extended wide apart. Another horrible scream burst from him, and he fell
flat upon his back.

The post-holder and a whole crowd of awakened coolies now assembled, and
they all at once declared that the man had a devil. The fact is, he had
a fit of epilepsy, and his convulsions were terrible. Without moving
a limb he flapped here and there like a salmon when just landed. I had
nothing with me that would relieve him, and I therefore left him to
the hands of the post-holder, who prided himself upon his skill in
exorcising devils. All his incantations produced no effect, and the
unfortunate patient suddenly sprang to his feet and rushed madly into
the thorny jungle. In this we heard him crashing through like a wild
beast, and I do not know to this day whether he was ever heard of
afterwards.

The Cingalese have a thorough belief in the presence of devils; one sect
are actually 'devil-WORSHIPPERS,' but the greater portion of the
natives are Bhuddists. Among this nation the missionaries make very slow
progress. There is no character to work upon in the Cingalese: they are
faithless, cunning, treacherous, and abject cowards; superstitious in
the extreme, and yet unbelieving in any one God. A converted Bhuddist
will address his prayers to our God if he thinks he can obtain any
temporal benefit by so doing, but, if not, he would be just as likely to
pray to Bhudda or to the devil.

I once saw a sample of heathen conversion in Ceylon that was enough to
dishearten a missionary.

A Roman Catholic chapel had been erected in a wild part of the country
by some zealous missionary, who prided himself upon the number of his
converts. He left his chapel during a few weeks' absence in some other
district, during which time his converts paid their devotion to the
Christian altar. They had made a few little additions to the ornaments
of the altar, which must have astonished the priest on his return.

There was an image of our Saviour and the **Virgin:** that was all
according to custom. But there were also 'three images of Bhudda,' a
coloured plaster-of-Paris image of the Queen and Prince Albert upon the
altar, and a very questionable penny print in vivid colours hanging over
the altar, entitled the 'Stolen Kiss.' So much for the conversion of the
heathen in Ceylon. The attempt should only be made in the schools, where
the children may be brought up as Christians, but the idea of converting
the grown-up heathen is a fallacy.




CHAPTER V.

The Four-ounce again--Tidings of a Rogue--Approaching a Tank Rogue--An
Exciting Moment--Ruins of Pollanarua--Ancient Ruins--Rogues at
Doolana--B. Charged by a Rogue--Planning an Attack--A Check--Narrow
Escape--Rogue-stalking--A Bad Rogue--Dangers of Elephant-shooting--The
Rhatamahatmeya's Tale.

A broken nipple in my long two-ounce rifle took me to Trincomalee, about
seventy miles out of my proposed route. Here I had it punched out and
replaced with a new one, which I fortunately had with me. No one who
has not experienced the loss can imagine the disgust occasioned by an
accident to a favourite rifle in a wild country. A spare nipple and
mainspring for each barrel and lock should always be taken on a shooting
trip.

In passing by Kandelly, on my return from Trincomalee, I paid a second
visit to the lake. This is very similar to that of Minneria; but the
shooting at that time was destroyed from the same cause which has since
ruined Minneria--'too many guns.' The buffaloes were not worthy of the
name; I could not make one show fight, nor could I even get within three
hundred yards of them. I returned from the plain with disgust; but just
as I was quitting the shores of the lake I noticed three buffaloes in
the shallows about knee-deep in the water, nearly half a mile from me.
They did not look bigger than dogs, the distance was so great.

There is nothing like a sheet of water for trying a rifle; the splash of
the ball shows with such distinctness the accuracy or the defect in the
shooting. It was necessary that I should fire my guns off in order to
clean them that evening: I therefore tried their power at this immense
distance.

The long two-ounce fell short, but in a good line. I took a rest upon
a man's shoulder with the four-ounce rifle, and, putting up the last
sight, I aimed at the leading buffalo, who was walking through the water
parallel with us. I aimed at the outline of the throat, to allow for his
pace at this great distance. The recoil of the rifle cut the man's ear
open, as there were sixteen drachms of powder in this charge.

We watched the smooth surface of the water as the invisible messenger
whistled over the lake. Certainly three seconds elapsed before we saw
the slightest effect. At the expiration of that time the buffalo fell
suddenly in a sitting position, and there he remained fixed, many
seconds after, a dull sound returned to our ears; it was the 'fut' of
the ball, which had positively struck him at this immense range. What
the distance was I cannot say; it may have been 600 yards, or 800,
or more. It was shallow water the whole way: we therefore mounted our
horses and rode up to him. Upon reaching him, I gave him a settling ball
in the head, and we examined him. The heavy ball had passed completely
through his hips, crushing both joints, and, of course, rendering him
powerless at once.

The shore appeared full half a mile from us on our return, and I could
hardly credit my own eyes, the distance was so immense, and yet the ball
had passed clean through the animal's body.

It was of course a chance shot, and, even with this acknowledgment,
it must appear rather like the 'marvellous' to a stranger;--this is my
misfortune, not my fault. I certainly never made such a shot before or
since; it was a sheer lucky hit, say at 600 yards; and the wonderful
power of the rifle was thus displayed in the ball perforating the large
body of the buffalo at this range. This shot was made with a round
ball, not a cone. The round belted ball for this heavy two-grooved rifle
weighs three ounces. The conical ball weighs a little more than four
ounces.

While describing the long shots performed by this particular rifle, I
cannot help recounting a curious chance with a large rogue elephant
in Topari tank. This tank or lake is, like most others in Ceylon, the
result of vast labour in past ages. Valleys were closed in by immense
dams of solid masonry, which, checking the course of the rivers, formed
lakes of many miles in extent. These were used as reservoirs for the
water required for the irrigation of rice lands. The population who
effected these extensive works have long since passed away; their fate
is involved in mystery. The records of their ancient cities still exist,
but we have no account of their destruction. The ruins of one of these
cities, Pollanarua, are within half a mile of the village of Topari, and
the waters of the adjacent lake are still confined by a dam of two miles
in length, composed of solid masonry. When the lake is full, it is about
eight miles in circumference.

I had only just arrived at the village, and my horse-keeper had taken
the horse to drink at the lake, when he suddenly came running back to
say that a rogue elephant was bathing himself on the opposite shore, at
about two miles' distance.

I immediately took my guns and went after him. My path lay along the
top of the great dam, which formed a causeway covered with jungle. This
causeway was about sixty feet in breadth and two miles in length; the
lake washed its base about twenty feet below the summit. The opposite
shore was a fine plain, bordered by open forest, and the lake spread
into the grassy surface in wide and irregular bays.

I continued my course along the causeway at a fast walk, and on arriving
at the extremity of the lake, I noticed that the ancient dam continued
for a much greater distance. This, together with the great height of the
masonry from the level of the water, proved that the dimensions of the
tank had formerly been of much greater extent.

Descending by the rugged stones which formed the dam wall I reached the
plain, and, keeping close to the water's edge, I rounded a large neck
of land covered with trees, which projected for some distance into the
lake. I knew, by the position of the elephant, when I first saw him,
that he was not far beyond this promontory, and I carefully advanced
through the open forest, hoping that I might meet him there on his
exit from his bath. In this I was mistaken, for on passing through this
little belt of trees I saw the elephant still in the lake, belly-deep,
about 300 paces from me. He was full 120 yards from the shore, and I was
puzzled how to act. He was an immense brute, being a fine specimen of
a tank 'rogue.' This class are generally the worst description of rogue
elephants, who seldom move far from the lakes, but infest the shores
for many years. Being quite alone, with the exception of two worthless
gun-bearers, the plan of attack required some consideration.

The belt of trees in which I stood was the nearest piece of cover to the
elephant, the main jungle being about a quarter of a mile from the shore
of the lake. In the event of a retreat being necessary, this cover would
therefore be my point. There was a large tamarind-tree growing alone
upon the plain about a hundred and fifty paces from the water's edge,
exactly in a line with the position of the elephant. The mud plastered
to a great height upon the stem showed this to be his favourite
rubbing-post after bathing.

Having determined upon my plan of attack, I took the guns from the
gun-bearers and sent the men up the tree, as I knew they would run away
in the event of danger, and would most probably take the guns with
them in their flight. Having thus secured the arms, I placed the long
two-ounce against a large and conspicuous tree that grew upon the
extreme edge of the forest, and I cautiously advanced over the open
plain with my two remaining guns, one of which I deposited against the
stem of the single tamarind-tree. I had thus two points for a defensive
retreat, should it be necessary.

I had experienced considerable difficulty in attaining my position at
the tamarind-tree without being observed by the elephant; fortunately,
I had both the wind and the sun favourable, the latter shining from my
back full into the lake.

The elephant was standing with his back to the shore exactly in a line
with me, and he was swinging his great head from side to side, and
flapping his ears in the enjoyment of his bath. I left the tree with my
four-ounce rile, and, keeping in a direct line for his hind-quarters,
I walked towards him. The grass was soft and short; I could therefore
approach without the slightest noise: the only danger of being
discovered was in the chance that I might be seen as he swung his head
continually on either side. This I avoided by altering my course as I
saw his head in the act of coming round, and I soon stood on the edge of
the lake exactly behind him, at about 120 yards. He was a noble-looking
fellow, every inch a rogue, his head almost white with numerous
flesh-coloured spots. These give a savage and disgusting appearance
to an elephant, and altogether he looked a formidable opponent. I had
intended to shout on arriving at my present position, and then to
wait for the front shot as he charged; but on looking back to the
tamarind-tree and my proposed course for retreat, the distance appeared
so great, rendered still more difficult by a gradual ascent, that I felt
it would be impossible to escape if my chance lay in running. I hardly
knew what to do; I had evidently caught a 'Tartar.'

His head was perpetually swinging to and fro, and I was of course
accordingly altering my position to avoid his eye. At one of these
half turns he flapped his right ear just as his head came round, and I
observed a perfectly white mark, the size of a saucer, behind the ear,
in the exact spot for a fatal shot. I at once determined to try it, even
at this distance; at all events, if it failed, and he should charge, I
had a fair start, and by getting the spare gun from the tamarind-tree I
could make a defence at the cover.

His attention was completely absorbed in a luxurious repast upon a bed
of the succulent lotus. He tore up bunches of the broad leaves and snaky
stalks, and, washing them carefully with his trunk, he crushed the juicy
stems, stuffing the tangled mass into his mouth as a savage would eat
maccaroni. Round swung his head once more, the ear flapped, the mark was
exposed, but the ear again concealed it just as I had raised the rifle.
This happened several times, but I waited patiently for a good chance,
being prepared for a run the moment after firing.

Once more his head swung towards me: the sun shone full upon him, and I
raised the rifle to be ready for him if he gave me the chance. His ear
flapped forward just as his head was at a proper angle for a shot. The
mark shone brightly along the sights of the rifle as I took a steady
aim; the answer to the report of the gun was--a dull splash!

He had sunk upon his knees stone dead. I could hardly believe my eyes.
The sight of so large an animal being killed at such a distance by one
shot had an extraordinary effect. I heard a heathenish scream of
joy behind me, and upon turning round I perceived the now courageous
gun-bearers running towards me at their best pace. They were two of
the Topari villagers, and had been perfectly aghast at the idea of one
person, with only a single-barrelled rifle, attacking a tank rogue in
the open plain. The sequel had turned their fear into astonishment. They
now had the laugh at me, however, as they swam fearlessly up to the
dead elephant to cut off his tail, which I would not have done for any
reward, for fear of crocodiles, which abound in the tank. The ball had
struck the white mark exactly in the centre, which pleased these natives
exceedingly, and they returned in safety with the tail.

I have frequently tried these long shots since, but I never succeeded
again except once, and that was not satisfactory, as the elephant did
not die upon the spot, but was found by the natives on the following
day.

On my return to the village I took a shot-gun and strolled along the
banks of the lake. The snipe were innumerable, and I killed them till my
head ached with the constant recoil of the gun in addition to the
heat. I also killed several couple of ducks and teal in addition to
twenty-eight couple of snipe. This was the Paradise for sport at the
time of which I write. It had never been disturbed: but it has since
shared the fate of many other places.

The open forest in the vicinity of the lake abounded with deer. Grassy
glades beneath the shady trees give a park-like appearance to the scene,
and afford a delightful resort for the deer.

In strolling through these shady glades you suddenly arrive among the
ruins of ancient Pollanarua. The palaces are crumbled into shapeless
mounds of bricks. Massive pillars, formed of a single stone, twelve feet
high, stand in upright rows throughout the jungle here and there over an
extent of some miles. The buildings which they once supported have long
since fallen, and the pillars now stand like tombstones over vanished
magnificence. Some buildings are still standing; among these are two
dagobas, huge monuments of bricks, formerly covered with white cement,
and elaborately decorated with different devices. These are shaped like
an egg that has been cut nearly in half, and then placed upon its base;
but the cement has perished, and they are mounds of jungle and rank
grass which has overgrown them, although the large dagoba is upwards of
a hundred feet high.

A curious temple, formed on the imperishable principle of excavating
in the solid rock, is in perfect preservation, and is still used by the
natives as a place of worship: this is presided over by a priest. Three
large images of Bhudda, carved out of solid rock, occupy the positions
in which he is always represented; that in the recumbent posture is
fifty-six feet long, cut from one stone.

I was strolling through these ruins when I suddenly saw a spotted doe
feeding among the upright pillars before mentioned. I was within twenty
yards of her before she was aware of my vicinity, and I bagged her by
a shot with a double-barrelled gun. At the report of the gun a herd of
about thirty deer, which were concealed amongst the ruins, rushed close
by me, and I bagged another doe with the remaining barrel.

The whole of this country must at one time have been densely populated;
perhaps this very density may have produced pestilence, which swept away
the inhabitants. The city has been in ruins for about 600 years, and
was founded about 300 years B.C. Some idea of the former extent of the
Ceylon antiquities may be formed from the present size of the ruins.
Those of Anarajapoora are sixteen miles square, comprising a surface
of 256 square miles. Those of Pollanarua are much smaller, but they are
nevertheless of great extent.

The inhabitants of the present village of Topari are a poor squalid
race; and if they are descended in a direct line from the ancient
occupants of the city, they are as much degenerated in character and
habits as the city itself is ruined in architecture. Few countries can
be more thinly populated than Ceylon, and yet we have these numerous
proofs of a powerful nation having once existed. Wherever these lakes or
tanks exist in the present day, a populous country once flourished. In
all countries which are subject to months of drought, a supply of water
is the first consideration, or cultivation must cease. This was the
object in forming the tanks, which are especially numerous throughout
the Tambancadua district. These tank countries afford a great diversity
of sport, as they all abound with wild fowl, and snipe in their season
(from November to May). During the time of drought they are always
the resort of every kind of wild animal, which are forced to the
neighbourhood for a supply of water.

The next tank to Topari is that of Doolana; this is eight miles from the
former, and is about the same extent. In this district there are no less
than eight of these large lakes. Their attractions to rogue elephants
having been explained, it may be readily understood that these gentry
abound throughout the district. I shall, therefore, select a few
incidents that have happened to me in these localities, which will
afford excellent illustrations of the habits of 'rogues.'

Having arrived at Doolana, on the 5th April, 1847, with good Moormen
trackers, who were elephant-catchers by profession, I started for a
day's sport, in company with my brother B. This particular portion of
the district is inhabited entirely by Moormen. They are a fine race of
people, far superior to the Cingalese. They are supposed to be descended
from Arabian origin, and they hold the Mohammedan religion. The
Rhatamahatmeya, or head man of the district, resides at Doolana, and he
had received us in a most hospitable manner. We therefore started direct
from his house.

Passing through a belt of low thick jungle, exactly in front of the
village, we entered upon the plain which formed the border of the tank.
This lake is about three miles in length, but is not more than a mile
in width in its widest part, and in some places is very much less.
The opposite side of the tank is fine open forest, which grows to the
water's edge, and is in some parts flooded during the wet season. At
this time the soil was deep and muddy.

This was not a place visited by sportsmen at that period; and upon
arriving at the margin of the lake, an exciting view presented itself.
Scattered over the extent of the lake were 'thirteen rogue elephants;'
one was not a quarter of a mile from us; another was so far off he could
hardly be distinguished; another was close to the opposite jungle; and
they were, in fact, all single elephants. There was an exception to
this, however, in one pair, who stood in the very centre of the tank,
side by side; they were as black as ebony, and although in view with
many brother rogues, they appeared giants even among giants. The Moormen
immediately informed us that they were a notorious pair, who always
associated together, and were the dread of the neighbourhood. There
were many tales of their ferocity and daring, which at the time we gave
little heed to.

Crossing the tank in a large canoe, we arrived in the open forest upon
the opposite shore. It was a mass of elephant tracks; which sank deep
in the soft earth. They were all so fresh and confused that tracking was
very difficult. However, we at length fixed upon the tracks of a pair of
elephants, and followed them up. This was a work of considerable time,
but the distant cracking of a bough at length attracted us to their
position, and we shortly came up with them, just as they had winded us
and were moving off. I fired an ineffectual shot at the temple of one,
which separated him from the other, after whom we started in chase at
full speed. Full speed soon ended in a stand-still in such ground; it
was deep, stiff clay, in which we sank over our ankles at every step,
and varied our struggles by occasionally flying sprawling over the
slippery roots of the trees.

The elephants ran clean away from us, and the elephant-catchers, who
knew nothing of the rules for carrying spare guns, entering into the
excitement of the chase, and free from the impediments of shoes, ran
lightly along the muddy ground, and were soon out of sight as well as
the elephants. Still we struggled on, when, presently we heard a shout
and then a shot; then another shout; then the trumpet of an elephant.
Shot after shot then followed with a chorus of shouts; they were
actually firing all our spare guns!

In a few moments we were up with them. In a beautifully open piece
of forest, upon good hard ground, these fellows were having a regular
battle with the rogue. He was charging them with the greatest fury, but
he no sooner selected one man for his object than these active fellows
diverted his rage by firing into his hind-quarters and yelling at him.
At this he would immediately turn and charge another man, when he would
again be assailed as before. When we arrived he immediately selected B.,
and came straight at him, but offered a beautiful shot in doing so, and
B. dropped him dead.

The firing had disturbed a herd of elephants from the forest, and they
had swum the large river in the neighbourhood, which was at that time
so swollen that we could not cross it. We, therefore, struck off to the
edge of the forest, where the waters of the lake washed the roots of the
trees, and from this point we had a fine view of the greater portion.

All the rogues that we had at first counted had retired to their
several entrances in the forest, except the pair of desperadoes already
mentioned--they knew no fear, and had not heeded the shots fired. They
were tempting baits, and we determined to get them if possible. These
two elephants were standing belly-deep in the water, about a quarter of
a mile from the shore; and the question was, 'How were we to get near
them?' Having observed that the other rogues had retreated to the forest
at the noise of the firing, it struck me that we might by some ruse
induce these two champions to follow their example, and, by meeting them
on their entrance, we might bring them to action.

Not far upon our left, a long shallow bank, covered with reeds,
stretched into the tank. By wading knee-deep along this shoal, a man
might approach to within 200 paces of the elephants and would be nearly
abreast of them. I, therefore, gave a man a gun, and instructed him
to advance to the extreme end of the shallows, taking care to conceal
himself in the rushes, and when at the nearest point he was to fire at
the elephants. This, I hoped, would drive them to the jungle, where we
should endeavour to meet them.

The Moorman entrusted upon this mission was a plucky fellow, and he
started off, taking a double gun and a few charges of powder and ball.
The elephant-catchers were delighted with the idea, and we patiently
awaited the result. About a quarter of an hour passed away, when we
suddenly saw a puff of white smoke spring from the green rushes at the
point of the sandbank. A few moments after, we heard the report of the
gun, and we saw the ball splash in the water close to the elephants.
They immediately cocked their ears, and, throwing their trunks high in
the air, they endeavoured to wind the enemy; but they did not move, and
they shortly again commenced feeding upon the water-lilies. Another shot
from the same place once more disturbed them, and, while they winded the
unseen enemy, two more shots in quick succession from the old quarter
decided their opinion, and they stalked proudly through the water
towards the shore.

Our satisfaction was great, but the delight of the elephant-catchers
knew no bounds. Away they, started along the shores of the lake, hopping
from root to root, skipping through the mud, which was more than a
foot deep, their light forms hardly sinking in the tough surface. A
nine-stone man certainly has an advantage over one of twelve in this
ground; added to this, I was carrying the long two-ounce rifle of
sixteen pounds, which, with ammunition, &c., made up about thirteen and
a half stone, in deep stiff clay. I was literally half-way up the calf
of my leg in mud at every step, while these light, naked fellows tripped
like snipe over the sodden ground. Vainly I called upon them to go
easily; their moment of excitement was at its full pitch, and they were
soon out of sight among the trees and underwood, taking all the spare
guns, except the four-ounce rifle, which, weighing twenty-one pounds,
effectually prevented the bearer from leaving us behind.

What added materially to the annoyance of losing the spare guns was the
thoughtless character of the advance. I felt sure that these fellows
would outrun the position of the elephants, which, if they had continued
in a direct route, should have entered the jungle within 300 yards of
our first station.

We had slipped, and plunged, and struggled over this distance, when we
suddenly were checked in our advance. We had entered a small plot of
deep mud and rank grass, surrounded upon all sides by dense rattan
jungle. This stuff is one woven mass of hooked thorns: long tendrils,
armed in the same manner, although not thicker than a whip-cord, wind
themselves round the parent canes and form a jungle which even elephants
dislike to enter. To man, these jungles are perfectly impervious.

Half-way to our knees in mud, we stood in this small open space of about
thirty feet by twenty. Around us was an opaque screen of impenetrable
jungle; the lake lay about fifty yards upon our left, behind the thick
rattan. The gun-bearers were gone ahead somewhere, and were far in
advance. We were at a stand-still. Leaning upon my long rifle, I stood
within four feet of the wall of jungle which divided us from the lake.
I said to B., 'The trackers are all wrong, and have gone too far. I
am convinced that the elephants must have entered somewhere near this
place.'

Little did I think that at that very moment they were within a few feet
of us. B. was standing behind me on the opposite side of the small open,
or about seven yards from the jungle.

I suddenly heard a deep guttural sound in the thick rattan within four
feet of me; in the same instant the whole tangled fabric bent forward,
and bursting asunder, showed the furious head of an elephant with
uplifted trunk in full charge upon me!

I had barely time to cock my rifle, and the barrel almost touched him
as I fired. I knew it was in vain, as his trunk was raised. B. fired his
right-hand barrel at the same moment without effect from the same cause.
I jumped on one side and attempted to spring through the deep mud: it
was of no use, the long grass entangled my feet, and in another instant
I lay sprawling in the enraged elephant's path within a foot of him. In
that moment of suspense I expected to hear the crack of my own bones as
his massive foot would be upon me. It was an atom of time. I heard the
crack of a gun; it was B.'s last barrel. I felt a spongy weight strike
my heel, and, turning quickly heels over head, I rolled a few paces and
regained my feet. That last shot had floored him just as he was upon me;
the end of his trunk had fallen upon my heel. Still he was not dead, but
he struck at me with his trunk as I passed round his head to give him
a finisher with the four-ounce rifle, which I had snatched from our
solitary gun-bearer.

My back was touching the jungle from which the rogue had just charged,
and I was almost in the act of firing through the temple of the still
struggling elephant, when I heard a tremendous crash in the jungle
behind me similar to the first, and the savage scream of an elephant.
I saw the ponderous foreleg cleave its way through the jungle directly
upon me. I threw my whole weight back against the thick rattans to avoid
him, and the next moment his foot was planted within an inch of mine.
His lofty head was passing over me in full charge at B., who was
unloaded, when, holding the four-ounce rifle perpendicularly, I fired
exactly under his throat. I thought he would fall and crush me, but this
shot was the only chance, as B. was perfectly helpless.

A dense cloud of smoke from the heavy charge of powder for the moment
obscured everything. I had jumped out of the way the instant after
firing. The elephant did not fall, but he had his death blow the
ball had severed his jugular, and the blood poured from the wound. He
stopped, but collecting his stunned energies he still blundered forward
towards B. He, however, avoided him by running to one side, and the
wounded brute staggered on through the jungle. We now loaded the guns;
the first rogue was quite dead, and we followed in pursuit of rogue
number two. We heard distant shots, and upon arriving at the spot we
found the gun-bearers. They had heard the wounded elephant crushing
through the jungle, and they had given him a volley just as he was
crossing the river over which the herd had escaped in the morning. They
described the elephant as perfectly helpless from his wound, and they
imagined that he had fallen in the thick bushes on the opposite bank
of the river. As I before mentioned, we could not cross the river on
account of the torrent, but in a few days it subsided, and the elephant
was found lying dead in the spot where they supposed he had fallen.

Thus happily ended the destruction of this notable pair; they had proved
themselves all that we had heard of them, and by their cunning dodge
of hiding in the thick jungle they had nearly made sure of us. We had
killed three rogues that morning, and we returned to our quarters well
satisfied.

Since that period I have somewhat thinned the number of rogues in this
neighbourhood. I had a careful and almost certain plan of shooting them.
Quite alone, with the exception of two faithful gun-bearers, I used to
wait at the edge of the jungle at their feeding time, and watch their
exit from the forest. The most cautious stalking then generally enabled
me to get a fatal shot before my presence was discovered. This is the
proper way to succeed with rogue elephants, although of course it is
attended with considerable danger. I was once very nearly caught near
this spot, where the elephants are always particularly savage. The
lake was then much diminished in size by dry weather, and the water had
retired for about a hundred yards from the edge of the forest, leaving
a deep bed of mud covered with slime and decayed vegetable matter.
This slime had hardened in the sun and formed a cake over the soft mud
beneath. Upon this treacherous surface a man could walk with great
care. Should the thin covering break through, he would be immediately
waist-deep in the soft mud. To plod through this was the elephant's
delight. Smearing a thick coat of the black mud over their whole bodies,
they formed a defensive armour against the attacks of mosquitoes, which
are the greatest torments that an elephant has to contend with.

I was watching the edge of the forest one afternoon at about four
o'clock, when I noticed the massive form of one of these tank rogues
stalk majestically from the jungle and proceed through the deep mud
towards the lake. I had the wind, and I commenced stalking him.

Advancing with my two gun-bearers in single file, I crept carefully from
tree to tree along the edge of the forest for about a quarter of a mile,
until I arrived at the very spot at which he had made his exit from the
jungle.

I was now within eighty yards of him as he stood with his head towards
the lake and his hind-quarters exactly facing me. His deep tracks in the
mud were about five feet apart, so great was his stride and length of
limb, and, although the soft bog was at least three and a half feet
deep, his belly was full two feet above the surface. He was a fine
fellow, and, with intense caution, I advanced towards him over the
trembling surface of baked slime. His tracks had nearly filled with
water, and looked like little wells. The bog waved as I walked carefully
over it, and I stopped once or twice, hesitating whether I should
continue; I feared the crusty surface would not support me, as the
nearer I approached the water's edge the weaker the coating of slime
became, not having been exposed for so long a time to the sun as that at
a greater distance.

He was making so much noise in splashing the mud over his body that
I had a fine chance for getting up to him. I could not withstand the
temptation, and I crept up as fast as I could.

I got within eight paces of him unperceived; the mud that he threw
over his back spattered round me as it fell. I was carrying a light
double-barrelled gun, but I now reached back my hand to exchange it for
my four-ounce rifle. Little did I expect the sudden effect produced
by the additional weight of the heavy weapon. The treacherous surface
suddenly gave way, and in an instant I was waist deep in mud. The noise
that I had made in falling had at once aroused the elephant, and, true
to his character of a rogue, he immediately advanced with a shrill
trumpet towards me. His ears were cocked, and his tail was well up; but
instead of charging, as rogues generally do, with his head thrown rather
back and held high, which renders a front shot very uncertain, he rather
lowered his head, and splashed towards me through the mud, apparently
despising my diminutive appearance.

I thought it was all up with me this time; I was immovable in my bed of
mud, and, instead of the clean brown barrel that I could usually trust
to in an extremity, I raised a mass of mud to my shoulder, which encased
my rifle like a flannel bag. I fully expected it to miss fire; no sights
were visible, and I had to guess the aim with the advancing elephant
within five yards of me. Hopelessly I pulled the slippery trigger. The
rifle did not even hang fire, and the rogue fell into the deep bed of
mud stone dead. If the rifle had missed fire I must have been killed, as
escape would have been impossible. It was with great difficulty that I
was extricated from my muddy position by the joint exertions of myself
and gun-bearers.

Elephants, buffaloes, and hogs are equally fond of wallowing in the mud.
A buffalo will gallop through a swamp, hock deep, in which a horse would
be utterly powerless, even without a rider. Elephants can also make
wonderful progress through deep mud, the formation of the hind legs
with knees instead of hocks giving them an increased facility for moving
through heavy ground.

The great risk in attacking rogue elephants consists in the
impracticability of quick movements upon such ground as they generally
frequent. The speed and activity of a man, although considerable upon a
smooth surface, is as nothing upon rough, stumpy grass wilds, where even
walking is laborious. What is comparatively level to an elephant's
foot is as a ploughed field to that of a man. This renders escape from
pursuit next to impossible, unless some welcome tree should be near,
round which the hunter could dodge, and even then he stands but a poor
chance, unless assistance is at hand. I have never seen anyone who could
run at full speed in rough ground without falling, if pursued. Large
stones, tufts of rank grass, holes, fallen boughs, gullies, are all
impediments to rapid locomotion when the pursued is forced to be
constantly looking back to watch the progress of his foe, and to be the
judge of his own race.

There is a great art in running away. It requires the perfection of
coolness and presence of mind, without which a man is most likely to run
into the very danger that he is trying to avoid. This was the cause
of Major Haddock's death in Ceylon some years ago. He had attacked a
'rogue,' and, being immediately charged, he failed to stop him, although
he gave him both barrels. Being forced to run, he went off at full
speed, and turning quickly round a tree, he hoped the elephant would
pass him. Unfortunately, he did not look behind him before he turned,
and the elephant passed round the opposite side of the tree, and, of
course, met him face to face. He was instantly trampled to death.

Mr. Wallet was also killed by a rogue elephant; this animal was shot a
few days afterwards, in a spirited contest, by Captain Galway and
Ensign Scroggs, both of whom were very nearly caught in the encounter.
A gentleman of the name of Keane was added to the list of victims a
few years ago. He had fired without effect, and was almost immediately
over-taken by the elephant and crushed to death. The most extraordinary
tale that I have ever heard of rogue elephants in Ceylon was told me by
the Rhatamahatmeya of Doolana, who was present at the scene when a lad.
I do not profess to credit it entirely; but I will give it in his own
words, and, to avoid the onus of an improbable story, I will entitle it
the 'Rhatamahatmeya's Tale.' In justice to him, I must acknowledge that
his account was corroborated by all the old men of the village.

THE RHATAMAHATMEYA'S TALE.

'There was a notorious rogue elephant at Doolana about thirty years
ago, whose ferocity was so extreme that he took complete possession of
a certain part of the country adjoining the lake. He had killed eight
or nine persons, and his whole object in existence appeared to be the
waylaying and destruction of the natives. He was of enormous size, and
was well known by a peculiar flesh-coloured forehead.

'In those days there were no fire-arms in this part of the country;
therefore there was no protection for either life or property from this
monster, who would invade the paddy-fields at night, and actually pull
down the watch-houses, regardless of the blazing fires which are lighted
on the hearth of sand on the summit; these he used to scatter about and
extinguish. He had killed several natives in this manner, involving them
in the common ruin with their watch-houses. The terror created by this
elephant was so extreme that the natives deserted the neighbourhood that
he infested.

'At length many months passed away without his being either seen or
heard of; the people began to hope that he had died from the effect
of poisoned arrows, which had frequently been shot at him from the
watch-houses in high trees; and, by degrees, the terror of his name had
lost its power, and he ceased to be thought of.

'It was in the cool of the evening, about an hour before sunset, that
about twenty of the women from the village were upon the grassy borders
of the lake, engaged in sorting and tying into bundles the rushes which
they had been gathering during the day for making mats. They were on the
point of starting homeward with their loads, when the sudden trumpet
of an elephant was heard, and to their horror they saw the well-known
rogue, with the unmistakable mark upon his forehead, coming down in full
charge upon them. The ground was perfectly open; there were no trees for
some hundred yards, except the jungle from which he was advancing at a
frightful speed. An indiscriminate flight of course took place, and a
race of terror commenced. In a few seconds the monster was among them,
and, seizing a young girl in his trunk, he held her high in the air, and
halted, as though uncertain how to dispose of his helpless victim. The
girl, meanwhile, was vainly shrieking for assistance, and the petrified
troop of women, having gained the shelter of some jungle, gazed
panic-stricken upon the impending fate of their companion.

'To their horror the elephant slowly lowered her in his trunk till near
the ground, when he gradually again raised her, and, bringing her head
into his mouth, a report was heard like the crack of a whip--it was
the sudden crushing of her skull. Tearing the head off by the neck, he
devoured it; and, placing his forefoot upon the body, he tore the arms
and legs from their sockets with his trunk, and devoured every portion
of her.

'The women rushed to the village with the news of this unnatural
carnage.

'Doolana and the neighbourhood has always been famous for its
elephant-hunters, and the husband of this unfortunate girl was one of
the most active in their pursuit. The animals are caught in this country
and sold to the Arabs, for the use of the Indian Government.

'The news of this bloody deed flew from village to village; war to
the knife was declared against the perpetrator, and preparations were
accordingly made.

'Since the murder of this girl he had taken up his abode in a small
isolated jungle adjoining, surrounded by a small open plain of fine soft
grass, upon a level sandy soil.

'A few days after this act, a hundred men assembled at
Doolana, determined upon his destruction. They were all picked
elephant-hunters--Moormen; active and sinewy fellows, accustomed to
danger from their childhood. Some were armed with axes, sharpened to the
keenest edge, some with long spears, and others with regular elephant
ropes, formed of the thongs of raw deer's hide, beautifully twisted.
Each division of men had a separate duty allotted.

'They marched towards the small jungle in which the rogue was known
to be; but he anticipated their wishes, and before they were within a
hundred paces of his lair, he charged furiously out. The conflict began
in good earnest. The spearmen were in advance, and the axemen were
divided into two parties, one on either flank, with an equal number of
ropemen. The instant that he charged the whole body of men ran forward
at full speed to meet him; still he continued his furious onset,
undismayed by the yells of a hundred men. The spearmen halted when
within twenty yards, then turned and fled; this had been agreed upon
beforehand. The elephant passed the two flanks of axemen in pursuit of
the flying enemy; the axemen immediately closed in behind him, led by
the husband of the murdered girl. By a well-directed blow upon the hind
leg, full of revenge, this active fellow divided the sinew in the first
joint above the foot.* (*Since this was written I have seen the African
elephant disabled by one blow of a sharp sword as described in the "Nile
Tributaries of Abyssinia.") That instant the elephant fell upon his
knees, but recovered himself directly, and endeavoured to turn upon
his pursuers; a dozen axes flashed in the sunbeams, as the strokes were
aimed at the other hind leg. It was the work of an instant: the massive
limb bent powerless under him, and he fell in a sitting posture, utterly
helpless, but roaring with mad and impotent fury. The ropemen now threw
nooses over his trunk and head; his struggles, although tremendous, were
in vain; fifty men, hanging their weight upon several ropes attached to
his trunk, rendered that dreaded weapon powerless. The sharp lances
were repeatedly driven into his side, and several of the boldest hunters
climbing up the steep ascent of his back, an axe was seen to fall
swiftly and repeatedly upon his spine, on the nape of his tough neck.
The giant form suddenly sank; the spine was divided, and the avenging
blow was dealt by the husband of his late victim. The destroyer was no
more. The victory was gained without the loss of a man.'

The natives said that this elephant was mad; if so it may account in
some measure for the unheard-of occurrence of an elephant devouring
flesh. Both elephants and buffaloes attack man from malice alone,
without the slightest idea of making a meal of him. This portion of the
headman's story I cannot possibly believe, although he swears to it.
The elephant may, perhaps, have cracked her head and torn his victim to
pieces in the manner described, but the actual 'eating' is incredible.




CHAPTER VI.

Character of the Veddahs--Description of the Veddahs--A Monampitya
Rogue--Attacking the Rogue--Breathless Excitement--Death of a Large
Rogue--Utility of the Four-ounce--A Curious Shot--Fury of a Bull
Buffalo--Character of the Wild Buffalo--Buffalo-shooting at Minneria
Lake--Charge in High Reeds--Close of a Good Day's Sport--Last Day at
Minneria--A Large Snake--An Unpleasant Bedfellow.

Doolana is upon the very verge of the most northern point of the Veddah
country, the whole of which wild district is the finest part of Ceylon
for sport. Even to this day few Europeans have hunted these secluded
wilds. The wandering Veddah, with his bow and arrows, is occasionally
seen roaming through his wilderness in search of deer, but the report
of a native's gun is never heard; the game is therefore comparatively
undisturbed. I have visited every portion of this fine sporting country,
and since I have acquired the thorough knowledge of its attractions, I
have made up my mind never to shoot anywhere but there. The country is
more open than in most parts of Ceylon, and the perfect wildness of the
whole district is an additional charm.

The dimensions of the Veddah country are about eighty miles from north
to south, by forty in width. A fine mountain, known as the 'Gunner's
Coin,' is an unmistakable landmark upon the northern boundary. From
this point a person may ride for forty miles without seeing a sign of a
habitation; the whole country is perfectly uncivilised, and its scanty
occupants, the 'Veddahs,' wander about like animals, without either
home, laws, or religion.

I have frequently read absurd descriptions of their manners and customs,
which must evidently have been gathered from hearsay, and not from
a knowledge of the people. It is a commonly believed report that the
Veddahs 'live in the trees,' and a stranger immediately confuses them
with rooks and monkeys. Whoever first saw Veddah huts in the trees would
have discovered, upon enquiry, that they were temporary watch-houses,
from which they guard a little plot of korrakan from the attacks of
elephants and other wild beasts. Far from LIVING in the trees, they
live nowhere; they wander over the face of their beautiful country, and
migrate to different parts at different seasons, with the game which
they are always pursuing. The seasons in Ceylon vary in an extraordinary
manner, considering the small size of the island. The wet season in one
district is the dry season in another, and vice versa. Wherever the dry
weather prevails, the pasturage is dried up; the brooks and pools are
mere sandy gullies and pits. The Veddah watches at some solitary hole
which still contains a little water, and to this the deer and every
species of Ceylon game resort. Here his broad-headed arrow finds a
supply. He dries the meat in long strips in the sun, and cleaning out
some hollow tree, he packs away his savoury mass of sun-cooked flesh,
and fills up the reservoir with wild honey; he then stops up the
aperture with clay.

The last drop of water evaporates, the deer leave the country and
migrate into other parts where mountains attract the rain and the
pasturage is abundant. The Veddah burns the parched grass wherever he
passes, and the country is soon a blackened surface--not a blade of
pasture remains; but the act of burning ensures a sweet supply shortly
after the rains commence, to which the game and the Veddahs will then
return. In the meantime he follows the game to other districts, living
in caves where they happen to abound, or making a temporary but with
grass and sticks.

Every deer-path, every rock, every peculiar feature in the country,
every pool of water, is known to these hunting Veddahs; they are
consequently the best assistants in the world in elephant-hunting. They
will run at top speed over hard ground upon an elephant's track which
is barely discernible even to the practised eye of a white man.
Fortunately, the number of these people is very trifling or the game
would be scarce.

They hunt like the leopard; noiselessly stalking till within ten paces
of their game, they let the broad arrow fly. At this distance who could
miss? Should the game be simply wounded, it is quite enough; they never
lose him, but hunt him up, like hounds upon a blood track.

Nevertheless, they are very bad shots with the bow and arrow, and they
never can improve while they restrict their practice to such short
ranges.

I have often tried them at a mark at sixty yards, and, although a very
bad hand with a bow myself, I have invariably beaten them with their own
weapons. These bows are six feet long, made of a light supple wood, and
the strings are made of the fibrous bark of a tree greased and twisted.
The arrows are three feet long, formed of the same wood as the bows. The
blades are themselves seven inches of this length, and are flat, like
the blade of a dinner-knife brought to a point. Three short feathers
from the peacock's wing are roughly lashed to the other end of the
arrow.

The Veddah in person is extremely ugly; short, but sinewy, his long
uncombed locks fall to his waist, looking more like a horse's tail than
human hair. He despises money, but is thankful for a knife, a hatchet,
or a gaudy-coloured cloth, or brass pot for cooking.

The women are horribly ugly and are almost entirely naked. They have
no matrimonial regulations, and the children are squalid and miserable.
Still these people are perfectly happy, and would prefer their present
wandering life to the most luxurious restraint. Speaking a language of
their own, with habits akin to those of wild animals, they keep entirely
apart from the Cingalese. They barter deer-horns and bees'-wax with the
travelling Moormen pedlers in exchange for their trifling requirements.
If they have food, they eat it; if they have none, they go without until
by some chance they procure it. In the meantime they chew the bark of
various trees, and search for berries, while they wend their way for
many miles to some remembered store of deer's flesh and honey, laid by
in a hollow tree.

The first time that I ever saw a Veddah was in the north of the country.
A rogue elephant was bathing in a little pool of deep mud and water near
the tank of Monampitya, about six miles from the 'Gunner's Coin.' This
Veddah had killed a wild pig, and was smoking the flesh within a few
yards of the spot, when he suddenly heard the elephant splashing in
the water. My tent was pitched within a mile of the place, and he
accordingly brought me the intelligence.

Upon arrival at the pool I found the elephant so deep in the mud that he
could barely move. His hind-quarters were towards me; and the pool not
being more than thirty yards in diameter, and surrounded by impenetrable
rattan jungle on all sides but one small opening, in which I stood,
I was obliged to clap my hands to attract his attention. This had the
desired effect; he turned slowly round, and I shot him immediately. This
was one of the Monampitya tank rogues, but in his muddy position he had
no chance.

The largest elephant that I have ever seen was in this neighbourhood. I
had arrived one afternoon at about five o'clock in a fine plain, about
twelve miles from Monampitya, where the presence of a beautiful lake and
high grass promised an abundance of game. It was a most secluded spot,
and my tent and coolies being well up with my horse, I fixed upon a
shady nook for the tent, and I strolled out to look for the tracks while
it was being pitched.

A long promontory stretched some hundred yards into the lake, exactly
opposite the spot I had fixed upon for the encampment, and, knowing that
elephants when bathing generally land upon the nearest shore, I walked
out towards the point of this projecting neck of land.

The weather was very dry, and the ground was a mass of little pitfalls,
about two feet deep, which had been made by the feet of the elephants in
the wet weather, when this spot was soft mud and evidently the favourite
resort of the heavy game. The ground was now baked by the sun as hard
as though it were frozen, and the numerous deep ruts made walking very
difficult. Several large trees and a few bushes grew upon the surface,
but for the most part it was covered by a short though luxuriant grass.
One large tree grew within fifty yards of the extreme point of the
promontory, and another of the same kind grew at an equal distance from
it, but nearer to the main land. Upon both these trees was a coat of
thick mud not many hours old. The bark was rubbed completely away, and
this appeared to have been used for years as a favourite rubbing-post by
some immense elephant. The mud reached full twelve feet up the trunk of
the tree, and there were old marks far above this which had been scored
by his tusks. There was no doubt that one of these tank rogues of
extraordinary size had frequented this spot for years, and still
continued to do so, the mud upon the tree being still soft, as though it
had been left there that morning. I already coveted him, and having my
telescope with me, I took a minute survey of the opposite shore, which
was about half a mile distant and was lined with fine open forest to the
water's edge. Nothing was visible. I examined the other side of the lake
with the same want of success. Although it was such a quiet spot, with
beautiful grass and water, there was not a single head of game to be
seen. Again I scrutinised the opposite shore. The glass was no sooner
raised to my eye than I started at the unexpected apparition. There was
no mistaking him; he had appeared as though by magic--an elephant of the
most extraordinary size that I have ever seen. He was not still for an
instant, but was stalking quickly up and down the edge of the lake as
though in great agitation. This restlessness is one of the chief
characteristics of a bad rogue. I watched him for a few minutes, until
he at length took to the water, and after blowing several streams over
his shoulders, he advanced to the middle of the tank, where he commenced
feeding upon the lotus leaves and sedges.

It was a calm afternoon, and not a breath of air was stirring;
and fearing lest the noise of the coolies, who were arranging the
encampment, should disturb him, I hastened back. I soon restored
quiet, and ordering the horses to be led into the jungle lest he should
discover them, I made the people conceal themselves; and taking my two
Moormen gun-bearers, who were trusty fellows that I had frequently shot
with, I crept cautiously back to my former position, and took my station
behind the large tree farthest from the point which commanded the
favourite rubbing-post and within fifty yards of it. From this place I
attentively watched his movements. He was wandering about in the water,
alternately feeding and bathing, and there was a peculiar devilry in his
movements that marked him as a rogue of the first class. He at length
made up his mind to cross the tank, and he advanced at quick strides
through the water straight for the point upon which I hoped to meet him.

This was an exciting moment. I had no companion, but depended upon
my own gun, and the rutty nature of the ground precluded any quick
movements. The watching of the game is the intense excitement of
elephant-shooting--a feeling which only lasts until the animal is within
shot, when it suddenly vanishes and gives place to perfect calmness. At
this time I could distinctly hear the beating of my own heart, and
my two gun-bearers, who did not know what fear was, were literally
trembling with excitement.

He was certainly a king of beasts, and proudly he advanced towards the
point. Suddenly he disappeared; nothing could be seen but his trunk
above the water as he waded through the deep channel for a few yards,
and then reared his majestic form dripping from the lake. He stood upon
the 'point.' I never saw so grand an animal; it seemed as though no
single ball could kill him, and although his head and carcass were
enormous, still his length of leg appeared disproportionately great.
With quick, springy paces he advanced directly for his favourite tree
and began his process of rubbing, perfectly unaware of the hidden foes
so near him.

Having finished his rubbing, he tore up several bunches of grass, but
without eating them he threw them pettishly over his back, and tossed
some from side to side. I was in momentary dread lest a horse should
neigh and disturb him, as they were within 200 paces of where he stood.
Everything was, however, quiet in that direction, where the hiding
coolies were watching the impending event with breathless interest.

Having amused himself for some moments by kicking up the turf and dirt
and throwing the sand over his back, he took it into his head to visit
the main shore, and for this purpose he strode quickly in the direction
of the encampment. I moved round the tree to secrete myself as he
advanced. He was soon exactly at right angles with me as he was passing
the tree, when he suddenly stopped: his whole demeanour changed in an
instant; his ears cocked, his eyes gleamed, his tail on end and his
trunk raised high in the air, he turned the distended tip towards the
tree from behind which I was watching him. He was perfectly motionless
and silent in this attitude for some moments. He was thirty yards
from me, as I supposed at the time, and I reserved my fire, having the
four-ounce rifle ready. Suddenly, with his trunk still raised, his
long legs swung forward towards me. There was no time to lose; I was
discovered, and a front shot would be useless with his trunk in that
position. Just as his head was in the act of turning towards me I took
a steady shot at his temple. He sank gently upon his knees, and never
afterwards moved a muscle! His eyes were open, and so bright that
I pushed my finger in them to assure myself that life was perfectly
extinct. He was exactly thirty-two paces from the rifle, and the ball
had passed in at one temple and out at the other. His height may be
imagined from this rough method of measuring. A gun-bearer climbed upon
his back as the elephant lay upon all-fours, and holding a long stick
across his spine at right angles, I could just touch it with the points
of my fingers by reaching to my utmost height. Thus, as he lay, his back
was seven feet two inches, perpendicular height, from the ground. This
would make his height when erect about twelve feet on the spine-an
enormous height for an elephant, as twelve feet on the top of the back
is about equal to eleven feet six inches at the shoulder. If I had not
fortunately killed this elephant at the first shot, I should have
had enough to do to take care of myself, as he was one of the most
vicious-looking brutes that I ever saw, and he was in the very act of
charging when I shot him.

With these elephants the four-ounce rifle is an invaluable weapon; even
if the animal is not struck in the mortal spot, the force of the blow
upon the head is so great that it will generally bring him upon his
knees, or at least stop him. It has failed once or twice in this, but
not often; and upon those occasions I had loaded with the conical ball.
This, although it will penetrate much farther through a thick substance
than a round ball, is not so effective in elephant-shooting as the
latter. The reason is plain enough. No shot in the head will kill an
elephant dead unless it passes through the brain; an ounce ball will
effect this as well as a six-pound shot; but there are many cases where
the brain cannot be touched, by a peculiar method of carrying the
head and trunk in charging, etc.; a power is then required that by the
concussion will knock him down, or turn him; this power is greater in
the round ball than in the conical, as a larger surface is suddenly
struck. The effect is similar to a man being run through the arm with
a rapier or thrust at with a poker--the rapier will pass through him
almost without his knowledge, but the poker will knock him down. Thus
the pointed conical ball will, perhaps, pass through an elephant's
forehead and penetrate as far as his shoulders, but it will produce no
immediate effect. For buffalo-shooting the conical ball is preferable,
as with the heavy charge of powder that I use it will pass completely
through him from end to end. A four-ounce ball, raking an animal from
stem to stern, must settle him at once. This is a desirable thing to
accomplish with wild buffaloes, as they may, frequently prove awkward
customers, even after receiving several mortal wounds from light guns.

The four-ounce conical ball should be an excellent weapon for African
shooting, where the usual shot at an elephant is at the shoulder. This
shot would never answer in Ceylon; the country is not sufficiently open
to watch the effects produced upon the animal, and although he may have
a mortal wound, he carries it away with him and is not bagged. I have
frequently tried this shot; and, although I have seen the elephants go
away with ears and trunk drooping, still I have never bagged more than
one by any but the head shot. This fellow was a small 'tusker,' who
formed one of a herd in thick thorny jungle. There were several rocks in
this low jungle which overtopped the highest bushes; and having taken my
station upon one of these, I got a downward shot between the shoulders
at the tusker, and dropped him immediately as the herd passed beneath.
The jungle was so thick that I could not see his head, or, of course,
I should have chosen the usual shot. This shot was not a fair criterion
for the shoulder, as I happened to be in a position that enabled me to
fire down upon him, and the ball most likely passed completely through
him.

I remember a curious and unexpected shot that I once made with the
four-ounce rifle, which illustrates its immense power. I was shooting at
Minneria, and was returning to the tent in the afternoon, having had
a great day's sport with buffaloes, when I saw a large herd in the
distance, ranged up together, and gazing intently at some object near
them. Being on horseback I rode up to them, carrying my heavy rifle;
and, upon a near approach I discovered two large bulls fighting
furiously. This combat was exciting the attention of the herd, who
retreated upon my approach. The two bulls were so engaged in their duel
that they did not notice me until I was within fifty yards of them.
First one, then the other, was borne to the ground, when presently their
horns became locked together, as though arm in arm. The more they tugged
to separate themselves, the tighter they held together, and at length
they ranged side by side, Taking a shot at the shoulder of the nearest
bull, they both fell suddenly to the ground. The fall unlocked their
horns, and one bull recovering his legs, retreated at a slow pace and
dead lame. The nearest bull was killed, and mounting my horse I galloped
after the wounded buffalo. The chase did not last long. Upon arriving
within fifty yards of his flank, I noticed the blood streaming from his
mouth, and he presently rolled over and died. The ball, having passed
through his antagonist, had entered his shoulder, and, smashing the
shoulder-blade, had passed through the body, lodging in the tough hide
upon his opposite side, from which I extracted it by simply cutting the
skin which covered it.

I have frequently seen the bull buffaloes fight each other with great
fury. Upon these occasions they are generally the most dangerous, all
their natural ferocity being increased by the heat of the combat. I
was once in pursuit of an elephant which led me across the plain at
Minneria, when I suddenly observed a large bull buffalo making towards
me, as though to cut me off in the very direction in which I was
advancing. Upon his near approach I noticed numerous bloody cuts and
scratches upon his neck and shoulders, which were evidently only just
made by the horns of some bull with whom he had been fighting. Not
wishing to fire, lest I should alarm the elephant, I endeavoured to
avoid him, but this was no easy task. He advanced to within fifty paces
of me, and, ploughing up the ground with his horns, and roaring, he
seemed determined to make an attack. However, I managed to pass him at
length, being determined to pay him off on my return, if he were still
in the same spot.

On arriving near the position of the elephant, I saw at once that it was
impossible to get him: he was standing in a deep morass of great extent,
backed by thick jungles, and I could not approach nearer than 150 paces.
After trying several ruses to induce him to quit his mud-bath and come
on, I found it was of no use; he was not disposed to be a fighter, as
he saw my strong position upon some open rising ground among some large
trees. I therefore took a rest upon the branch of a tree, and gave him
a shot from the four-ounce rifle through the shoulder. This sent him
to the thick jungle with ears and trunk drooping, but produced no other
effect. I therefore returned towards the tent, fully expecting to meet
my old enemy, the bull, whom I had left master of the field. In this
I was not disappointed; he was standing within a few yards of the same
spot, and, upon seeing me, he immediately advanced, having a very poor
opinion of an enemy who had retreated from him an hour previous.

Instead of charging at a rapid pace he trotted slowly up, and I gave him
the four-ounce when within fifty yards. This knocked him over; but, to
my astonishment, he recovered himself instantly and galloped towards me.
Again he stopped within twenty yards of me, and it was fortunate for me
that he did; for a servant who was carrying my long two-ounce rifle had,
in his excitement, cocked it and actually set the hair-trigger. This
he managed to touch as he handed it to me, and it exploded close to
my head. I had only a light double-gun loaded, and the buffalo was
evidently prepared to charge in a few seconds.

To my great satisfaction I saw the bloody foam gathering upon his lips,
and I knew that he was struck through the lungs; but, nevertheless, the
distance was so short between us that he could reach me in two or three
bounds. Keeping my Moorman with the light gun close to me in readiness,
I began to load my two big rifles. In the mean time the bull was
advancing step by step with an expression of determined malice, and my
Cingalese servant, in an abject state of fright, was imploring me to
run--simply as an excuse for his own flight. 'Buffalo's coming, sar!
Master, run plenty, quick! Buffalo's coming, sar! Master, get big tree!'
I could not turn to silence the fellow, but I caught him a fine backward
kick upon the shins with my heel, which stopped him, and in a few
seconds I was loaded and the four-ounce was in my hand. The bull, at
this time, was not fifteen yards from me; but, just as I was going to
fire, I saw him reel to one side; and in another moment he rolled upon
his back, a dead buffalo, although I had not fired after my first shot.
The ball, having entered his chest, was sticking in the skin of his
haunch, having passed through his lungs. His wonderful pluck had kept
him upon his legs until life was extinct.

I am almost tired of recounting so many instances of the courage of
these beasts. When I look back to those scenes, so many ghosts of
victims rise up before me that, were I to relate one-half their
histories, it would fill a volume. The object in describing these
encounters is to show the style of animal that the buffalo is in his
natural state. I could relate a hundred instances where they have died
like curs, and have afforded no more sport than tame cows; but I merely
enumerate those scenes worth relating that I have witnessed. This will
show that the character of a wild buffalo can never be depended upon;
and if the pursuit is followed up as a sport by itself, the nature
of the animal cannot be judged by the individual behaviour of any
particular beast. Some will fight and some will fly, and no one can tell
which will take place; it is at the option of the beast. Caution and
good shooting, combined with heavy rifles, are necessary. Without heavy
metal the sport would be superlatively dangerous if regularly followed
up. Many persons kill a wild buffalo every now and then; but I have
never met with a single sportsman in Ceylon who has devoted himself to
the pursuit as a separate sport. Unless this is done the real character
of buffaloes in general must remain unknown. It may, however, be
considered as a rule with few exceptions that the buffaloes seldom
commence the attack unless pursued. Their instinct at once tells them
whether the man advancing towards them over the plain comes as an enemy.
They may then attack; but if unmolested they will generally retreat,
and, like all men of true courage, they will never seek a quarrel,
and never give in when it is forced upon them. Many descriptions of
my encounters with these animals may appear to militate against this
theory, but they are the exceptions that I have met with; the fierce
look of defiance and the quick tossing of the head may appear to
portend a charge, but the animals are generally satisfied with this
demonstration, and retreat.

Attack the single bulls and follow them up, and they will soon show
their real character. Heavy rifles then make a good sport of what
would otherwise be a chance of ten to one against the man. It must be
remembered that the attack is generally upon an extensive plain, without
a single sheltering tree; escape by speed is therefore impossible, and
even a horse must be a good one or a buffalo will catch him.

Without wading through the many scenes of carnage that I have witnessed
in this branch of sport, I will sum up the account of buffalo-shooting
by a description of one day's work at Minneria.

The tent was pitched in a secluded spot beneath some shady trees,
through which no ray of sun could penetrate; the open forest surrounded
it on all sides, but through the vistas of dark stems the beautiful
green plain and glassy lake could be seen stretching into an undefined
distance. The blue hills, apparently springing from the bosom of the
lake, lined the horizon, and the shadowy forms of the Kandian mountains
mingled indistinctly with the distant clouds. From this spot, with a
good telescope, I could watch the greater part of the plain, which was
at this time enlivened by the numerous herds of wild buffaloes scattered
over the surface. A large bull was standing alone about half a mile from
the tent, and I thought him a fine beast to begin with.

I started with two well-known and trusty gun-bearers. This bull
apparently did not wish to fight, and when at nearly 400 yards'
distance he turned and galloped off. I put up all the sights of the
long two-ounce rifle, and for an instant he dropped to the shot at this
distance, but recovering immediately he turned round, and, although upon
only three legs, he charged towards me. At this distance I should have
had ample time to reload before he could have come near me, so I took
a quiet shot at him with my four-ounce rifle. A second passed, and he
pitched upon his head and lay upon the ground, struggling in vain to
rise. This was an immensely long shot to produce so immediate an effect
so reloading quickly I stepped the distance. I measured 352 paces, and
I then stood within ten yards of him, as he still lay upon the ground,
endeavouring vainly to rush at me. A ball in his head settled him. The
first shot had broken his hind leg--and the shot with the big rifle
had hit him on the nose, and, tearing away the upper jaw, it had passed
along his neck and escaped from behind his shoulder. This was a great
chance to hit him so exactly at such a range. His skull is now in
England, exhibiting the terrific effect of the heavy ball.

I had made up my mind for a long day's work, and I therefore mounted my
horse and rode over the plain. The buffaloes were very wild, as I had
been shooting here for some days, and there were no less than forty-two
carcasses scattered about the plain in different directions. I fired
several ineffectual shots at immense ranges; at length I even fired at
random into a large herd, which seemed determined to take to the jungle.
After they had galloped for a quarter of a mile, a cow dropped to the
rear and presently fell. Upon riding up to her I found her in the last
gasp; the random shot had struck her behind the shoulder, and I finished
her by a ball in the head. One of the bulls from this herd had separated
from the troop, and had taken to the lake; he had waded out for about
400 yards, and was standing shoulder-deep. This was a fine target; a
black spot upon the bright surface of the lake, although there was not
more than eighteen inches of his body above the water. I rode to the
very edge of the lake, and then dismounting I took a rest upon my
saddle. My horse, being well accustomed to this work, stood like a
statue, but the ball dapped in the water just beyond the mark. The
buffalo did not move an inch until the third shot. This hit him, and he
swam still farther off; but he soon got his footing, and again gave a
fair mark as before. I missed him again, having fired a little over him.
The fifth shot brought luck and sank him. I do not know where he was
hit, as of course I could not get to him; but most likely it was in the
spine, as so small a portion of his body was above water.

I passed nearly the whole day in practising at long ranges; but with no
very satisfactory effect; several buffaloes badly wounded had reached
the jungle, and my shoulder was so sore from the recoil of the heavy
rifle during several days' shooting with the large charge of powder,
that I was obliged to reduce the charge to six drachms and give up the
long shots.

It was late in the afternoon, and the heat of the day had been intense.
I was very hungry, not having breakfasted, and I made up my mind to
return to the tent, which was now some eight miles distant. I was riding
over the plain on my way home, when I saw a fine bull spring from a
swampy hollow and gallop off. Putting spurs to my horse, I was soon
after him, carrying the four-ounce rifle; and, upon seeing himself
pursued, he took shelter in a low but dry hollow, which was a mass of
lofty bulrush and coarse tangled grass, rising about ten feet high in
an impervious mass. This had been a pool in the wet weather, but was now
dried up, and was nothing but a bed of sedges and high rushes. I could
see nothing of the bull, although I knew he was in it. The hollow was
in the centre of a wide plain, so I knew that the buffalo could not have
passed out without my seeing him, and my gun-bearers having come up, I
made them pelt the rushes with dried clods of earth. It was of no use:
he would not break cover; so I determined to ride in and hunt him up.
The grass was so thick and entangled with the rushes that my horse could
with difficulty force his way through it; and when within the dense mass
of vegetation it towered high above my head, and was so thick that I
could not see a yard to my right or left. I beat about to no purpose
for about twenty minutes, and I was on the point of giving it up, when I
suddenly saw the tall reeds bow down just before me. I heard the rush
of an animal as he burst through, and I just saw the broad black nose,
quickly followed by the head and horns, as the buffalo charged into
me. The horse reared to his full height as the horns almost touched
his chest, and I fired as well as I was able. In another instant I was
rolling on the ground, with my horse upon me, in a cloud of smoke and
confusion.

In a most unsportsmanlike manner (as persons may exclaim who were
not there) I hid behind my horse, as he regained his legs. All was
still--the snorting of the frightened horse was all that I could hear. I
expected to have seen the infuriated buffalo among us. I peeped over the
horse's back, and, to my delight and surprise, I saw the carcass of the
bull lying within three feet of him. His head was pierced by the ball
exactly between the horns, and death had been instantaneous. The horse,
having reared to his full height, had entangled his hind legs in the
grass, and he had fallen backwards without being touched by the buffalo,
although the horns were close into him.

I was rather pleased at being so well out of this scrape, and I made up
my mind never again to follow buffaloes into high grass. Turning towards
the position of the tent, I rode homewards. The plain appeared deserted,
and I rode for three or four miles along the shores of the lake without
seeing a head of game. At length, when within about three miles of the
encampment, I saw a small herd of five buffaloes and three half-grown
calves standing upon a narrow point of muddy ground which projected for
some distance into the lake.

I immediately rode towards them, and upon approaching to within sixty
yards, I found they consisted of three cows, two bulls, and three
calves. I had advanced towards them upon the neck of land upon which
they stood; there was, therefore, no retreat for them unless they took
to the water. They perceived this themselves, but they preferred the
bolder plan of charging through all opposition and then reaching the
main land. After a few preliminary grunts and tosses of the head, one of
the bulls charged straight at me at full gallop; he was not followed by
his companions, who were still irresolute; and, when within forty yards,
he sprang high in the air, and pitching upon his horns, he floundered
upon his back as the rifle-ball passed through his neck and broke his
spine. I immediately commenced reloading, but the ball was only half-way
down the barrel when the remaining bull, undismayed by the fate of his
companion, rushed on at full speed. Snatching the long two-ounce rifle
from a gun-bearer, I made a lucky shot. The ball must have passed
through his heart, as he fell stone dead.

The three cows remained passive spectators of the death of their mates,
although I was convinced by their expression that they would eventually
show fight. I was soon reloaded, and not wishing to act simply on the
defensive, and thus run the risk of a simultaneous onset, I fired at the
throat of the most vicious of the party. The two-ounce ball produced
no other effect than an immediate charge. She bounded towards me, and,
although bleeding at the mouth, the distance was so short that she would
have been into me had I not stopped her with the four-ounce rifle,
which brought her to the ground when within fifteen paces; here she lay
disabled, but not dead, and again I reloaded as fast as possible.

The two remaining cows appeared to have taken a lesson from the fate of
their comrades; and showing no disposition to charge, I advanced towards
them to within twenty yards. One of the cows now commended tearing the
muddy ground with her horns, and thus offered a certain shot, which I
accordingly took, and dropped her dead with a ball in the nape of the
neck. This was too much for the remaining buffalo; she turned to plunge
into the lake, but the four-ounce through her shoulder brought her
down before she could reach the water, into which the three calves had
sprung, and were swimming for the main shore. I hit the last calf in the
head with a double-barrelled gun, and he immediately sank; and I missed
another calf with the left-hand barrel; therefore two escaped. I sent a
man into the water to find the dead calf, which he soon did, and hauled
it to the shore; and having reloaded, I proceeded to examine the hits on
the dead buffaloes. It was fortunate that I had reloaded; for I had no
sooner approached to within three or four yards of the cow that I
had left dying, when she suddenly sprang to her feet, and would have
charged, had I not killed her by a ball in the head from a light
double-barrel that I was then carrying. These animals had shown as good
sport as I had ever witnessed in buffalo-shooting, but the two heavy
rifles were fearful odds against them, and they were added to the list
of the slain. It was now late in the evening, and I had had a long day's
work in the broiling sun. I had bagged ten buffaloes, including the
calf, and having cut a fillet from the latter, I took a gun, loaded with
shot, from my horse-keeper, and gave up ball-shooting, having turned my
attention to a large flock of teal, which I had disturbed in attacking
the buffaloes. This flock I had marked down in a small stream which
flowed into the lake. A cautious approach upon my hands and knees,
through the grass, brought me undiscovered to the bank of the stream,
where, in a small bay, it emptied itself into the lake, and a flock of
about eighty teal were swimming among the water-lilies within twenty
yards of me. I fired one barrel on the water, and the other in the
air as they rose, killing five and wounding a sixth, which escaped by
continual diving. On my way home I killed a few snipe, till at length
the cessation of daylight put an end to all shooting.

The moon was full and shone over the lake with great brilliancy; the air
was cool and refreshing after the great heat of the day; and the chirp
of the snipe and whistling sound of the wild fowl on the lake were the
only noises that disturbed the wild scene around. The tent fires were
blazing brightly in the forest at about a mile distant; and giving my
gun to the horse-keeper, I mounted and rode towards the spot.

I was within half a mile of the tent, and had just turned round an
angle made by the forest, when I suddenly saw the grey forms of several
elephants, who had just emerged from the forest, and were feeding in the
high grass within a hundred yards of me. I counted seven, six of which
were close to the edge of the jungle, but the seventh was a large bull
elephant, who had advanced by himself about sixty yards into the plain.
I thought I could cut this fellow off, and, taking my big rifle, I
dismounted and crept cautiously towards him. He winded me before I had
gone many paces, gave a shrill trumpet of alarm, and started off for the
jungle; the rest of the herd vanished like magic, while I ran after the
bull elephant at my best speed. He was too quick for me, and I could
not gain upon him, so, halting suddenly, I took a steady shot at his ear
with the four-ounce at about seventy yards. Down he went to the shot,
but I heard him roar as he lay upon the ground, and I knew he would be
up again in a m

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