28 THE OUT-STATION ; OR, 



fume of cognac about it, and was terrifically mauled 

 and wounded where the bottle lay. 

 But we didn't find the bear. 



It was some months after the event above narrated, 

 that I found myself brought into active service and 

 actual collision against bruin and his firm. 



A Cingalese one day came to the bungalow with a 

 most lamentable tale about a bear having invaded the 

 generally peaceful neighbourhood of his habitation, 

 where it had devoured his tortoiseshell comb (an 

 ornament which all the natives, male and female, use 

 to keep up their " back hair," and on which they set 

 a high value), rooted up all his betel-nut, and finished 

 by gobbling down his remaining stock of rice and his 

 youngest boy. 



Having at times experienced the hospitality of the 

 man when on a shooting excursion (and, moreover, 

 having a huge desire to send home a bear-skin rug 

 for the very prettiest and smallest foot in creation to 

 pillow itself upon), I resolved to start next morning 

 by daylight, and encounter the embrace of the ruffian, 

 or as domestic tragedy heroes say, " to perish in the 

 attempt/' 



And now, courageous reader, I shall depend on 

 your company and assistance, and if you see me folded 

 in the animal's embrace, do not be in a hurry : 



