288 THE RIFLE AND HOUND IN CEYLON, chap, xil 



twenty yards from us, and I took a quick shot at him 

 with one of the No. 10 rifles. The brushwood closed 

 over him as he bounded into the jungle, but an ominous 

 crack sounded back from the ball, which made me 

 think he was hit. At this moment Palliser and V. 

 Baker came running up, thinking that we had found 

 the elephant. 



The buck was standing upon some snow-white 

 quartz rocks when I fired, and upon an examination 

 of the spot frothy patches of blood showed that he 

 was struck through the lungs. Men are bloodthirsty 

 animals, for nothing can exceed the pleasure, after 

 making a long shot, of finding the blood-track on the 

 spot when the animal is gone. We soon tracked him 

 up, and found him lying dead in the jungle within 

 twenty yards of the spot. This buck was the first 

 head of game we had bagged, with the exception of a 

 young elk that I had shot on horseback during the 

 ride from Dambool. We had plenty of snipe, and, 

 what with fish, wildfowl, and venison, our breakfast 

 began to assume an inviting character. After break- 

 fast we shot a few couple of snipe upon the plain, and 

 in the evening we formed two parties — Palliser and 

 V. Baker, and Wortley and myself — and taking dif- 

 ferent directions, we scoured the country, agreeing to 

 meet at the tent at dusk. 



W. and I saw nothing beyond the fresh tracks of 

 game which evidently came out only at night. We 



