AND AMERICAN 
the woods, with the certainty of getting a shot nineteen 
times out of twenty. 
Never pass a tank without peeping over the mound that 
surrounds it — you are almost sure of finding wild-fowl 
there. Often and often have I, in one of these lazy strolls, 
come suddenly upon hundreds of widgeon and teal; and so 
impudent were they frequently, that, even after firing at 
them, the flock would only move into the middle, or to the 
further end of the tank, if it were a large one. 
At this hour the quails and partridges leave the brakes, 
where they have sheltered themselves during the sultry 
noon, and feed in the stubbles. Jackals may be seen steal- 
ing about the thickets in every direction, and little grey- 
foxes bolt out before you like rabbits. 
The deer also may now be more easily approached whilst 
intent upon feeding, and a stalking-horse may sometimes 
be used with success: a bullock would be better, as they 
are more accustomed to its appearance; but it is surprising 
what a great dislike Indian cattle entertain for Europeans; 
and this would often defeat the sportsman’s manoeuvre. 
Nothing is more annoying than, after wasting an hour 
in endeavouring to approach a herd of antelopes, to see 
them all start off, bounding up into the air, and kicking 
their heels at you in scorn — -just too, as you were within 
long gun-shot, and enjoying in anticipation, the sweet cur- 
rant-jelly and the savoury haunch. Antelope venison is, 
though, at the best, but very indifferent; being, generally, 
hard and stringy; whilst that of the spotted deer is, I think, 
superior to our own: it is, moreover, far less shy than the 
startlish gazelle, and the other species of antelope. In pitch- 
ing a tent, you should be sapient enough to recollect that 
the sun never stands still : I have seen men, even old 
travellers, soft enough to encamp on the then shady side of 
the tree, and in an hour be exposed to the fiercest influence 
of the sun; which, under canvas, is no joke: frequently, the 
scorching heat has compelled me to take refuge under the 
table, when compelled to encamp in a spot utterly desti- 
tute of trees. It was on one of those delightful tropical 
evenings in February, that I was yawning under an old 
tamarind tree, under which my tent was pitched, and gazing 
upon the distant town of Balasore, and the wide prospect 
which extends from the hills of Orissa to the sea, when a 
* hat-less European came charging up to me at full speed, 
and in a second I recognized Mr. Patten, then joint judge, 
and magistrate of the district. 
At that time I was not aware that a pack of hounds ex- 
isted in these wilds; but so it was: and the result of our 
conference was, that we should unkennel a jackal (would I 
might say a fox) at day-break. 
Before it was light we mounted our prads, and rode out 
from the residency to a village two miles distant, where a 
RURAL SPORTS. 95 
black whipper-in and several doriyas were waiting with 
the hounds. As the gray dawn was hardly yet percepti- 
ble, I had ample time to look over this little pack by torch- 
light. To home-bred English eyes the turn-out would 
seem but a poor one: only seven couples and a half were 
in the field; and, of these, three dogs were curs, a half- 
bred, between a fox-hound and the common Indian pariah 
dog. They prove, however, exceedingly useful in worry- 
ing the jackals; and, being fast, generally receive most of 
those severe bites at the finish, which might cow, if not 
injure, the regular pack. 
The remaining six couples were some of the handsomest 
dwarf fox-hounds I ever saw: one couple of bitches, espe- 
cially, was such a perfect picture I could not help regretting 
they had” ever been sent to the deadly climate of the torrid 
zone. 
When I saw these hounds, two months afterwards, in 
the hot season, their condition had fallen off most lamenta- 
bly; and many of them, I should think, would never get 
over the rains. The hunting costume of India is rather 
antique: a cap, round coat, buckskin breeches, and, gene- 
rally, brown tops, characterise the fox-hunter of Bengal. 
Some modern innovations have crept in; but, in general, 
all Orientals are as wedded to ancient dustoora, or custom, 
as John Company is to his monopoly of tea. 
The Judge was accoutred in this style; and mounted on 
one of the most perfect brown Arabs ever seen — called (if 
I remember rightly) Jlmesbury, in honour of Nimrod’s 
hunter of the same name. He had a stablefull of some 
other very fine horses, chiefly Arabs — but Amesbury beat 
them all. One (Champion) was a noble creature, and so 
docile, that the syce used to bring him into the breakfast- 
room every morning, when my fair hostess honoured him 
by supplying bread with her own hand for his unconscion- 
able stomach. Champion, once a good one, had received 
a wrench in the loins at a big jump, and was then perfectly 
useless. 
Balasore is but a small Civil station, and only four or 
five sportsmen joined us: one of them, Mr. Matthews, was 
mounted on a noble chesnut stallion, said to be one of the 
most perfect desert Arabs ever brought from the coast of 
Yemen. He was very high for an Eastern horse, and his 
fiery and lasting vigour seemed almost too much for his 
rider. That horse was worth any sum. 
My kind friend, Mr. Pigou, the Judge of Cuttack (late 
of Jessore), who was my fellow-traveller, rode a stout ches- 
nut horse, of dubious breed, but which, though slow, went 
very well. 
We soon found a jackal, and had a sharp burst of a quar- 
ter of an hour, over ground full of holes and brambles, as 
hard as granite, and over fields divided by little banks at 
