CHAPTER VIII. 



A SHOOTING TRIP ON THE WEST COAST OF CEYLON. 



IT was many years ago, in the seventies, I think, that 

 the facts I am about to relate took place. My old 

 and valued friend, Will B , occupied at the time 

 a position of responsibility in the Judicial Branch of 

 the Civil Service at Colombo. It was not a post 

 which did justice to his abilities nor to his activity, 

 which a score of years' consecutive residence in the 

 low country of Colombo had not impaired. Alas ! it 

 did impair his constitution, for he returned to England 

 some half-a-dozen years after only to die. Light may 

 the earth lie on the best of good fellows, lightest- 

 hearted of Irishmen, and truest of friends ! 



" I am getting pretty sick of Colombo and the 

 Courts," said he to me one day. " Let's go for a trip 

 somewhere." 



" All right, if it doesn't cost too much," said I. 



The next question was where. After some dis- 

 cussion we decided on the west coast. Our plans 

 were soon made. They consisted in starting from 

 Negombo, connected with the capital by a line of 

 steamers, and working up the coast, completing our 

 trip so as to return to one of the coast ports in time 



