HUNTING fif SHOOTING IN CEYLON 



The hammer had cut deep into my nose and lip, and 

 luckily the fearful explosion had scared the elephant away, 

 for it was very unlikely he had been hit. 



I called a halt for breakfast, and after an hour's 

 rest went at it once more, taking up the track from the 

 last encounter but losing it again soon after. We were 

 searching about when one of the men heard a branch 

 break, and there was our friend in the very centre of a 

 patch of thick scrub, into which I made my way in spite 

 of the strong remonstrances of the trackers ; old Wellasie 

 Gamarala, a grand old "shikari," saying, "You will not 

 have a chance if he winds you ! " I instructed them, 

 however, to keep on quietly talking to divert his attention 

 from me, and in I went, accompanied by Govinden. I 

 was crawling along on my face when I heard a slight 

 movement alongside of me, and to my horror I perceived 

 that I was almost under the belly of the elephant, which 

 was standing stock-still, trunk raised, quietly feeling the 

 wind. We backed away as quietly as we could, and the 

 next moment he commenced to move in the direction of 

 the trackers, whereupon I forced myself upright through 

 the matted twigs and fired at his ear as near as I could 

 get it, but failed to drop him and he again dashed away. 



We did not get up to him again for some miles after 

 this, though he must have got a very nasty jar, and we 

 eventually sighted him walking slowly along through 

 the scrub. 



I got close up behind him, having almost impenetrable 

 thicket on either side, waiting for a turn of the head to 

 give me a chance of the ear shot, and behind me came 

 my followers, last man being the cooly with the tiffin 

 basket on his head. 



Suddenly, without any warning, round wheeled the 



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