8 GUN, RIFLE, AND HOUND. 



looked down, nothing could have saved my life. This, 

 however, is a digression. 



I had formed a sporting acquaintanceship with a 

 young Ceylon-born Englishman, who was employed in 

 the Minor Roads of the Province. He was a good 

 shot and a keen sportsman. What was more, he was 

 always travelling in out-of-the-way parts of the district, 

 with a gun in his dog-cart and a keen eye for game. 

 If he saw snipe about, or a likely bit, he would jump 

 out and walk through a few fields. If he found game 

 he always loyally told me. 



One day he drove into the Fort, and told me 



there were a lot of snipe at , a place some dozen 



miles away. I agreed to come on a certain day, and 

 we parted. 



Accordingly, soon after four o'clock one mid- 

 winter morning (which means there that the autumn 

 rains being over, it is just beginning to get hot), I was 

 sitting on the steps of my quarters, cursing the 

 dilatory cab-driver who was to take me to E -'s. At 

 last he arrived, and my traps gun, lunch, and car- 

 tridges, not forgetting plenty to drink and ice were 

 put in, and we started off. We rolled out of the old 

 Dutch gate of the Fort, and a twenty minutes' drive 



brought me to E 's house. He was waiting for us, 



and we drove on without delay. At length the sun 

 began to show light in the east, and E , who had 

 been directing the driver, pulled him up. Three or 

 four natives, engaged by him, were near at hand, to 

 act the part of retrievers and carriers. I gave my 

 game-stick to one of my two, and cartridges and a 



