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CHAPTEE XXXII. 



NOTES FROM MY DIARY. 



A WORD of explanation for the appearance of these "Notes" may be offered here. It 

 ■**■ has been my habit for many years to keep with some regularity a shooting diary of 

 fairly full detail. Various friends of mine have at one time or other beguiled a weary half hour 

 on board the boat in looking through it, and not seldom has the suggestion been made to publish 

 it. My reply has been invariable ; that what is recorded might possibly interest a few who 

 go up-country, but that it never could command any sufficient interest for the general reader. 

 However, to put the matter to the test, I now incorporate a modest selection of extracts. 



My diary gives the date, place and friend's name associated with every statement 

 made, but, of course, the text has often had to be extended a little in order to make the 

 record more understandable and readable. Startling revelations, exceptional experiences or 

 anything pertaining to the realms of romance have no place in these notes which make 

 mention of nothing that might not befall any gun, boat or dog during an ordinary shooting 

 trip. A regret deeper than any expression of mine can convey is the remembrance that in 

 but too many instances has the enthusiastic sport, the cheery comrade, the loyal friend 

 " passed into the shadowy bourne that lies beyond the sunset." 



It was at Christmas time 1870, that I was shooting down the Nadoo Creek on my way 

 back to Shanghai, and though there was nothing to complain about as regards the sport, 

 which was good enough to put one in quite a good humour with oneself, there was a good 

 deal to complain about in respect of the way the lowdah, who, as lowdahs go, was better 

 than the average captain of a ship, was on this occasion managing affairs. Somehow or 

 other things had gone awry with him and he seemed to be quite off his job. The boat was 

 constantly being run on shore without rhyme or reason, and he appeared never to fail to hit 

 the bridge he was steering to avoid. It may have been that I was too anxious to get back, 

 and it may have been that I took too serious a view of the way the boat was getting knocked 

 about. Perhaps I was a little bit too impetuous. But that was forty years ago. In my opinion 

 he had made up his mind to get back to Shanghai on a certain day, which was two days later 

 than the time I had fixed on for my arrival there, and had he been allowed his way I daresay 

 he would have lengthened his voyage by other two days. So, seeing that driving him was 

 hopeless, I waited my opportunity, which soon came. The boat was sailing through the 

 great reed bed at Nadoo, and the lowdah was forward jabbering like a monkey, so taking 

 advantage of the boat's proximity to the bank a slight push saw him land on the soft mud. 

 Gesticulating and shouting for all he was worth I gradually left him in the dim distance, and 



