Death of Killbuck. 217 



their deer in some high lemon grass, but they also were 

 both wounded by the buck's horns. I now put Killbuck 

 and Lena together in the slips, and with the buck, car- 

 ried upon cross poles by six men, I rode toward the 

 tent. I had not proceeded far when the man who was 

 leading the grayhounds behind my horse suddenly cried 

 out, and on turning round I saw Killbuck lying on the 

 ground. I was at his side in a moment, and I released 

 his neck from the slips. It was too late ; his languid 

 head fell heavily upon the earth ; he gave me one part- 

 ing look, and after a few faint gasps he was gone. 



I could hardly believe he was dead. Taking off my 

 cap, I ran to a little stream and brought some water, 

 which I threw in his face ; but his teeth were set, his 

 eyes were glazed, and the best and truest dog that was 

 ever born was dead. Poor Killbuck ! he had died like 

 a hero, and though I grieved over him, I could not have 

 wished him a more glorious death. 



I was obliged to open him to discover the real injury. 

 I had little thought that the knife which had so often 

 come to his assistance was destined to so sad a task. 

 His lungs were pierced through by the deer's horns in 

 two places, and he had died of sudden suffocation by 

 internal haemorrhage. A large hollow tree grew close 

 to the spot in which I buried him. The stag's antlers 

 now hang in the hall, a melancholy but glorious me- 

 mento of poor Killbuck. 



In a few days my leg had so much improved that I 

 could again use it without much inconvenience ; I 

 therefore determined to pay the cave a visit, as I felt 

 convinced that elephants would be more numerous in 

 that neighborhood. We started in the cool of the after- 

 noon, as the distance was not more than eight miles 

 19 



