The Rifle and Hound in Ceylon Sir Samuel White Baker 






















































 -  It was so dark that I
could not take an aim, but I floored him once more by a front - Page 113
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It Was So Dark That I Could Not Take An Aim, But I Floored Him Once More By A Front Shot, And Again I Jumped Back Through The Tangled Grass, Just In Time To Avoid Him, As He, For The Third Time, Recovered Himself And Charged.

He was not five paces from me; I took a steady shot at him with my last barrel, and I immediately bolted as hard as I could run.

This shot once more floored him, but he must have borne a charmed life, as he again recovered his legs, and to my great satisfaction he turned into the jungle and retreated. This all happened in a few seconds; had it been daylight I could of course have killed him, but as it happened I could not even dis tinguish the sights at the end of my rifle. In a few minutes afterwards, it became pitch dark, and we could only steer for the cave by the light of the fire, which was nearly two miles distant.

The next day, we found a herd of eight elephants in very favourable ground, and succeeded in killing seven; but this was the last herd in the Park, and after a few days spent in beating up the country without success, I returned to Newera Ellia, the bag being twenty-two elephants during a trip of three weeks, in addition to deer, hogs, buffalo, and small game, which had afforded excellent sport.

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.

ABOUT twelve months elapsed without my pulling a trigger. I had contented myself with elk-hunting in Newera Ellia and the vicinity, but in November, 1850, the greyhounds were again in their palanquin, and, ac companied by my brother V., I was once more in the saddle on my steady-going old horse Jack, en route for the Park.

It was 5 P.M. on a cool and lovely evening that we halted, and unsaddled in this beautiful country. Our tents and coolies were far behind, our horse-keepers were our only attendants, and we fixed upon a spot as the most eligible site for the tents. A large open park lay before us, interspersed with trees, and clumps of forest. A clear stream flowed from some low rocky hills upon our right, and several detached masses of rock lay scattered irregularly here and there, like the ruins of an old castle. Large trees grew from the crevices of these rocks, and beneath their shade we turned our horses loose to graze upon a soft sweet grass, with which this part of the Park is covered. We had the greyhounds with us, and a single rifle, but no other guns, as the servants were far behind.

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