14 THE RIFLE AND HOUND IN CEYLON, chap. I 



senses are half benumbed by a sense of sleep. We 

 are beneath the shade of a large tree, and we do not 

 dream that danger is near us. 



A frightful scream suddenly scatters our wandering 

 senses. It is a rogue elephant upon us ! It was the 

 scream of his trumpet that we heard ! and he is right 

 among us. How we should bolt ! How we should 

 run at the first start until we could get a gun ! But 

 let him continue this pursuit, and how long would he 

 be without a ball in his head ? 



It is precisely the same in attacking a herd of 

 elephants or any other animals unawares ; they are 

 taken by surprise, and are for the moment panic- 

 stricken. But let our friends X., Y., Z., who have just 

 bagged three elephants so easily, continue the pursuit, 

 hunt the remaining portion of the herd down till one 

 by one the)'' have nearly all fallen to the bullet — X., 

 Y., Z. will have had enough of it ; they will be 

 blinded by perspiration, torn by countless thorns, as 

 they have rushed through the jungles determined not 

 to lose sight of their game, soaked to the skin as they 

 have waded through intervening streams, and will 

 entirely have altered their opinion as to elephants 

 invariably running away, as they will very probably 

 have seen one turn sharp round from the retreating 

 herd, and charge straight into them when they least 

 expected it. At any rate, after a hunt of this kind 



