32 THE RIFLE AND HOUND IN CEYLON, chap. H. 



fellow ! Now he charges at the hounds, and strikes 

 the foremost beneath the water with his fore-feet ; up 

 they come again to the surface — they hear their 

 master's well-known shout — they look round and see 

 his welcome figure on the steep bank. Another 

 moment, a tremendous splash, and he is among his 

 hounds, and all are swimming towards their noble 

 game. At them he comes with a fierce rush. Avoid 

 him as you best can, ye hunters, man and hounds ! 



Down the river the buck now swims, sometimes 

 galloping over the shallows, sometimes wading 

 shoulder-deep, sometimes swimming through the deep 

 pools. Now he dashes down the fierce rapids and 

 leaps the opposing rocks, between which, the torrent 

 rushes at a frightful pace. The hounds are after him ; 

 the roaring of the water joins in their wild chorus ; 

 the loud holloa of the huntsman is heard above every 

 sound as he cheers the pack on. He runs along the 

 bank of the river, and again the enraged buck turns 

 to bay. He has this time taken a strong position : he 

 stands in a swift rapid about two feet deep ; his thin 

 legs cleave the stream as it rushes past, and every 

 hound is swept away as he attempts to stem the 

 current. He is a perfect picture : his nostrils are dis- 

 tended, his mane is bristled up, his eyes flash, and he 

 adds his loud bark of defiance to the din around him. 

 The hounds cannot touch him. Now for the hunts- 

 man's part ; he calls the stanchest seizers to his side. 



