NOTES FROM MY DIARY. 253 



Doubtless, had I had twenty cents in my pocket at the time that sum would have been 

 gladly accepted, and I only recall the incident to show how all important it is always to 



have a little bit of the ready with you when you get beyond the police radius. 



* * m * 



The other occasion on which I was held up was in October 1894, when I was shooting 

 on the Grand Canal about 10 miles S.W. of Kashing. My companion was Mr. Jas. Simpson 

 of the Old Dock. It was a glorious morning, and the country looked doubly inviting when 

 a brace of woodcocks rose right in front of me. I dropped one as he was disappearing 

 behind the angle of a copse when from quite an opposite direction came a cry as of one in 

 anguish. On going to the spot whence came the cry a native came forward with his face 

 well smirched with blood. I examined his physiognomy and found that what was evidently 

 a ricochet shot had slightly cut the bridge of his nose. Assuring him that there was 

 nothing much the matter I wiped away the blood with a cotton head I picked up and gave 

 him a dollar. To my surprise he refused to take it, and I naturally thought that he wanted 

 more. But my dog coolie coming up at the moment explained that the man considered the 

 affair a pure accident and would not take any money. With less persuasion than I 

 anticipated I made him accept the coin and then considered the incident at an end. But 

 no such luck. A crowd at once assembled, mostly women and hefty at that, and began 

 to vilify me in the choicest Billingsgate. From words to blows did not take much time, 

 and I soon found myself being belaboured by old and young ladies alike. Some of the men 

 made for my dog, and to save him I gave up my gun, having previously removed the fore 

 end, and submitted to being locked up in a Joss house. There I was incarcerated for four 

 mortal hours on a glorious shooting day, while some of the elders of the place went to 

 report the affair to the Mandarin. Fancy the agony. I don't know exactly how it came 

 about, possibly it came about through the explanation of my dog boy, but I found that a 

 strong force had determined to see me back to my boat, detaining the dog boy, gun, dog 

 and game as hostages until I was ransomed. As I neared my boat I was glad to see that 

 she was anchored close to a gunboat, so I called my boy and sent him with my card and 

 passport to the Commander, to whom he was to explain the situation. The passport 

 appeared to act like magic, for the gunboat Captain immediately donned his uniform and 

 made his men take him in my dinghy to the scene of the trouble. What occurred there I 

 shall rii^ver know, but it was not long before dog boy, gun and dog were restored to me. 

 The Captain said the affair was of no importance and that he had squared it with the 

 promise of a dollar. 1 gave him a couple of Mexicans which, doubtless, the pellet-struck 

 man never saw. On my return I gave particulars of the affair to the Consul who must have 

 brought the gunboat Captain's behaviour to the notice of the local official, for when I 

 visited Kashin g a year later the man called upon me on my boat, and told me that he 

 had been promoted in consequence of the assistance he had given me ; news which pleased 



me greatly. 



» • « * 



For four years Mr. Septimus Daly was my constant shooting companion. In the 

 winter of 1876 we were shooting in the Nadoo Creek. Two globe trotters, accredited to the 

 O. B. C. (Oriental Bank Corporation) were close by us in their boat. We learnt subsequently 

 what befell them. 



