HUNTING IN THE INDIES 205 



arrived from England to take charge of the gardens. I 

 called on him, and when he returned my call I artfully 

 led the conversation round to hunting, and said I 

 hoped he would let us meet at his bungalow shortly. 

 He replied politely, but evidently was not keen 

 on it. 



What was to be done ? I held council with two or 

 three others, and we decided to write to him the day 

 before we went. I need hardly say we well knew we 

 should be there before his post. Accordingly one 

 morning, to the surprise of the janitor, the Kandy 

 hounds, attended by a small field, entered the Gardens. 

 Alas ! we were never to enjoy a spin over the park. 

 Hardly had I entered than old Druid broke away on 

 a fresh scent, and entering a thicket of young shrubs, 

 disappeared from view. It was in vain to attempt to 

 restrain the pack. The scene that follows beggars 

 description. The Gardens must have been sanctuary 

 for hares for years. Here were two or three hounds 

 tearing a hare to pieces on a bed of rare seedlings, 

 there two or three more going full cry through a 

 fernery. Here, there, and everywhere were single 

 hounds running separate hares. In the midst of the 

 burly-burly the new director appeared on the scene, 

 furious. I am sorry to say the scene so tickled my 

 risible faculties that I was simply rolling in my saddle 

 with laughter. Indeed it was impossible for me to 

 hear a word for the noise of the hounds. At last I 

 was able to explain, apologise, and generally soothe 

 the irate botanist. He accepted my apologies, but 

 asked me to withdraw my hounds. This was done 

 with difficulty, and we rode on to the neighbouring 

 sugar estate. Here we soon found, and after a good 

 gallop returned home. 



