38 THE OUT-STATION; OR, 



These rascals ("guanas" they are called in Ceylon), 

 are nothing in comparison in point of size to the 

 Egyptian crocodile, but they are the greatest draw- 

 backs to shooting with dogs, more particularly 

 spaniels, for as sure as a dog enters a pool after a 

 dead or wounded bird, so surely does he enter the 

 ravenous maw of an alligator, who, with two inches 

 of snout above the surface, seems all his life long to 

 be actuated by the old nursery injunction of " Shut 

 your eyes and open your mouth, and see what 

 Heaven will send you," formerly accompanied to our- 

 self, in pinafore days, with a huge lump of Spanish 

 liquorice, or some other (then adored) abomination, 

 until our confidence was destroyed by a huge dose of 

 rhubarb one evening, when we expected tamarinds at 

 the very least. 



There is no use shooting these " guanas," as I have 

 been more than once tempted to do, by sending a ball 

 into their neck, for they only prove so much nourish- 

 ment to the other part of their family, and are soon 

 gobbled down by a bereaved and hungry circle of 

 acquaintance. 



They will generally attack every thing, man and 

 beast, in their own proper element, water ; but meet- 

 ing a human being on land, they invariably " cut their 

 bamboos," and take to the nearest pool. 



At last, we emerge into an open plain covered with 

 lemon grass about a foot in height, and bounded all 

 round by the jungle ; when following the directions 

 of our " indigenous" guide, we plant ourselves at an 



