64 THE OUT-STATION; OR, 



my departure), free and open for every person living 

 in the island to make use of as his abode, as long as 

 it is dedicated to the uses intended it by its proprietor, 

 viz., a shelter for the " enemy of the elephant ;" 

 so to this primitive abode, my dear reader, I will now 

 conduct you, and promise you that you shall return 

 from it both a wiser and a browner man. 



The head-quarter party having picked us up at 

 our out-station, some thirty or forty miles from the 

 park, our route for the rest of the journey lies through 

 the mountains, and we have no slight trouble to reach 

 our destination by the following afternoon, just in 

 time to arrange matters comfortably, both of a do- 

 mestic and of a warlike nature, before darkness covers 

 the scene. 



Threading our way through the lemon -grass, and 

 starting herd upon herd of wild deer in every di- 

 rection as we advance, we at last perceive in the 

 distance the white-washed walls of a bungalow, about 

 a mile a-head of us, welcome enough to us at present, 

 although looking wretchedly cheerless and uninviting 

 in itself. 



On approaching nearer, unmistake-able symptoms of 

 the continual visits it is in the habit of receiving from 

 buffaloes and elephants do not impart to it a more 

 hospitable appearance, nor does the interior tout 

 ensemble promise much in the way of ease and 

 luxury, as we desolately gaze on the rude, solitary 

 table, whose legs are formed from the uncarpentered 



