chap. ix. FLYING SHOT AT A BUCK. 215 



herd, but I must have missed, as none fell. I im- 

 mediately stepped the distance to the dead buck, 

 187 paces. I had fired a little too high, and missed 

 his body, but the ball struck him in the neck and 

 had broken his spine. A successful flying shot at 

 this distance has a very pretty effect, and Banda was 

 delighted. 



There were very few elephants at this season at the 

 Park, and the numberless ' ticks ' which swarmed in 

 the grass, spoilt all the pleasure of shooting. These 

 little wretches, which are not larger than a small grain 

 of gunpowder, find their way to every part of the body, 

 and the irritation of their bites is indescribable. 

 Scratching, is only adding fuel to fire ; there is no 

 certain prevention or relief from their attacks ; the 

 best thing that I know is cocoa-nut oil rubbed daily 

 over the whole body, but the remedy is almost as un- 

 pleasant as the bite. Ceylon is, at all times, a fright- 

 ful place for vermin : in the dry weather we have 

 ticks ; in the wet weather mosquitoes, and, what are 

 still more disgusting, ' leeches,' which swarm in the 

 grass, and upon the leaves of the jungle. These 

 creatures insinuate themselves through all the open- 

 ings in a person's dress — up the trousers, under the 

 waistcoat, down the neck, up the wrists, and in fact 

 everywhere, drawing blood with insatiable voracity, 

 and leaving an unpleasant irritation for some days 

 after. 



Q 



