2 THE RIFLE AND HOUND IN CEYLON. CHAP. I 



Now, the actual killing of an animal, the death it- 

 self, 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 neigh- 

 bourhood, 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 sur- 

 rounded 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. 



