288 GUN, RIFLE, AND HOUND. 



These dogs consisted of a few cross-bred terriers and 

 beagles with some native curs from the coolie lines. 

 This time we went up the hill instead of down. One 

 old dog opened almost at once upon a scent and 

 some of the others joined him. As fortunately none of 

 them had any reason for attaching themselves to me, I 

 was able to get on to where I thought I might get a shot. 

 Sure enough a stag sambur broke, going at a great 

 pace down through the coffee. A snap shot rolled him 

 over like a rabbit, but he got up and went off more 

 slowly. It was a great fluke, for, as I afterwards 

 found out, I had only smashed his knee. The next 

 barrel was a miss, and before I could reload, the dogs 

 broke and of course soon had him set up among the 

 trees. Not seeing well how I could knife him there, I 

 shot him through the back of the neck, which of course 

 finished him. 



As we were going homewards our " pack " com- 

 menced to bay violently on the bank of a wooded 

 ravine. 



" Panther, I'll bet," said I, and ran round till I got 

 above them. I peered over the edge rifle in hand, 

 but soon jumped back, for there on the ledge not two 

 feet below was a huge cobra, erect on his coils with 

 the well-known hood inflated. Some feet below him 

 were the frantic hounds, all baying and barking. I 

 ran back and called to the others to send me a shot 

 gun, which they did. Returning to my former post of 

 vantage I blew the brute's head off. This is the only 

 time I ever saw dogs act in this way towards a snake ; 

 their instinct generally leads them to avoid the 



