A Long Run with a Buck. 225 



torrents. Not a sign of elk or dogs. The grayhounds 

 were away with the pack, and knowing that the dogs 

 would never leave him till dark, we determined not to 

 give them up. No less than three times in the course 

 of the day did we reascend the mountain to listen for 

 them in vain. We went up to the top of the Newera 

 Ellia Pass, in the hope of hearing them in that direc- 

 tion, but with the same want of success. Miles of 

 ground were gone over to no purpose. Scaling the 

 steep sides of the mountains at the back of the barracks, 

 we listened among the deep hollows on the other side, 

 but again we were disappointed ; the sound of the tor- 

 rents was all that we could hear. 



Descending again to the plain, we procured some 

 breakfast at a friend's house, and we started for the 

 Matturatta plains. These plains are about three or four 

 miles from the barracks ; and I had a faint hope that 

 the buck might have crossed over the mountain, and 

 descended into this part of the country to a river which 

 flows through the patinas. We now mounted our 

 horses, having been on foot all the morning. It was 

 three o'clock p.m., and, with little hope of finding the 

 dogs, we rode along the path toward the Matturatta 

 plains. 



We had just entered the forest, when we met a young 

 hound returning along the path with a wound from a 

 buck's horn in the shoulder. There was now no doubt 

 of the direction, and we galloped along the path to- 

 ward the plains as hard as we could go. About half 

 wa 7 to the plains, to my joy I saw an immense buck's 

 track in the path going in the same direction ; the toes 

 were spread wide apart, showing the pace at which he 

 had been going ; and there were dogs' tracks following 



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