ON THE WEST COAST OF CEYLON Q7 



going our host gave us a key, which he said be- 

 longed to a drawer underneath it, which we should 

 find most useful, as it was practically waterproof. 

 In this we stowed our ammunition. 



Our battery for this trip, where the bag was most 

 likely to consist of deer, consisted of two '450 Express 

 rifles and our 12-bore guns, which were both cylinders 

 and capable of taking a bullet with five drachms of 

 powder. 



Next day, according to our orders, a start was made 

 before daylight. We simply spread our mattresses in 

 the travelling cart and slept quietly on. 



The sun had been up some time when we came to 

 a river, which in the rains was no doubt a formidable 

 affair. At present it showed a good deal of sand- 

 bank, and our driver, who knew the way, bumped 

 us confidently down the bank. I had resumed my 

 recumbent position, but Will was sitting in his 

 pyjamas at the front of the cart. Without my 

 noticing it he reached for a rifle. They were hang- 

 ing in slings at the sides of the cart. The driver's 

 protest, "" Maliatma ! '^ (sir, sir), roused me, and I 

 turned round just in time to see Will aiming at 

 one of a couple of alligators who were basking on a 

 sandbank. 



Bang ! went the rifle, and in spite of the driver's 

 best endeavours the bullocks bolted into deep water. 

 In less than a minute the smart cart was upset, and 

 Will, I, driver, bullocks, and, for all I knew, the 

 alligators too, were all struggling for the opposite 

 shore. The incident ended better than might be 

 expected ; for, the cart being closed in behind like 

 a London tradesman's cart, nothing was lost except 

 Will's socks — which served him right. Although 



