286 GUN, RIFLE, AND HOUND. 



Ouva was in those days a recently opened-up 

 district, and consequently contained a good deal of 

 game. From its eastern limits unbroken jungles 

 extended to the sea, joining it with the best shooting 

 country in the island. Elephants frequently passed 

 through the plantations, and sambur and muntjac were 

 abundant. 



Neither of my hosts was a very keen sportsman, 

 but knowing I was fond of shooting, they got up a 

 number of drives in the neighbouring jungles. We 

 began with those on the estate. The first was a steep 

 triangular piece, of which one of them, R by 

 name, took the top and we two others the bottom 

 corners. The coolies had not been long at work 

 beating when I heard a terrific crashing in the jungle, 

 evidently coming my way. I had no doubt at all that 

 it was an elephant, and, as I was only armed with a 

 *45o-bore Express, determined to give him a wide 

 berth. The noise was continued. At last there 

 appeared no elephant, but two or three of those great 

 black monkeys whose name I forget, but which the 

 Cingalese call wandaras. Hurling themselves along 

 from branch to branch, they passed me going at a 

 great speed, and accompanied by the noise of breaking 

 branches and shaken leaves I had heard. Of course I 

 did not molest the poor brutes. Although I had 

 of course often seen them before, I had never seen 

 their method of progression when greatly alarmed, and 

 I could not help thinking how enviable it would be to 

 some of our flying trapeze artistes. The beat came to 

 an end without a shot being fired. R had seen a 



