HUNTING & SHOOTING IN CEYLON 



I reached a point above where I expected to find the animal, 

 but hearing nothing made my way to the spot, and found 

 my calculation correct as to place, but the elephant had gone. 

 This did not surprise me, as I must have taken nearly an 

 hour over my climb and cautious approach, so getting on a 

 tree stump whence I could see Tom I signalled him to come 

 up, and he also made signs which I interpreted to mean 

 that the elephant had gone up the hill and away, and this 

 turned out to be the case. 



When Tom and the men arrived we tracked to the top 

 of the ridge and there found the usual broad beaten road, 

 but we also found a recent track descending to the other 

 side, which the villagers assured us was that of our elephant, 

 and that it would be hopeless to follow. Tom was inclined 

 to agree with them, but I was not at all satisfied that it was 

 our elephant's track, so set off by myself along the ridge. 

 I ought to explain that the ground was dead dry, so that 

 tracks several days old looked as fresh as those of an hour 

 unless overlaid by other tracks. I went carefully along, 

 using my eyes and getting more and more convinced that 

 I was right, when at last I came upon fresh droppings, 

 putting the matter beyond doubt. I ran back, called up 

 Tom, and off we set along the ridge. After a while we 

 came to the extreme end of the ridge, the elephant road 

 ended, and we saw nothing but small jungle sloping down 

 on three sides of us, and no sign of our elephant. Just 

 then, however, we heard a slight grunt and snort, when, 

 stooping down to look under the bushes, I saw the animal 

 not more than 30 yards away having a standing snooze. 

 Our villagers fairly trembled with funk and wanted us 

 to begin volleying at once, but we sat down to hold a 

 consultation, and then, as the wind was right, decided that 

 Tom, who was to take first shot, should with the 8-bore 



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