212 THE IMAGE OF WAR 



in full possession of his senses and activity. Aroused 

 by my arrival the hounds redouble their attacks, 

 vrhich are mostly vocal. However, they distract him 

 for a minute. I run hastily in, and seizing the base 

 of the left antler, thrust my knife, edge uppermost, 

 into the broad chest. A swing of his head sends me 

 flying and staggering, almost on my back, half across 

 the pond. But the knife has gone home, as the low 

 bellow of pain and wrath attests. The smell of the 

 blood excites the hounds, who can hardly be re- 

 strained from dashing on the spear-pointed horns. 

 Slowly the stag's strength leaves him, his knees bend 

 and he is down. We drag him to shore, and there 

 and then, to the accompaniment of St Paul's Church 

 bells, he is gralloched, and the offal thrown to the 

 eager pack. My next proceeding is to have the stag 

 taken to the friend's house to which I am bound, 



where the pack are shut up till F can send for' 



them. 



The danger of tackling an unwounded stag with 

 a knife is considerable, especially if the wielder of 

 the weapon does not understand what he is about. 

 Not long before the incidents I am relating a young 

 Englishman, new to Ceylon, met his death from this 

 cause. The deer — it was a hind — was '^ set up" in 

 somewhat shallow water. As he went in to knife 

 it the deer broke bay, and as he was in the act 

 of using his knife overhand^ like a dagger, it was 

 forced into his own chest, causing almost instantan- 

 eous death. A knife should invariably be used under- 

 hand with the edge uppermost. It is hardly necessary 

 for me to say that the knife on which one's life may 

 depend should never be used for any other purpose 

 than that for which it is made. It should be kept as 



