The Rifle And The Hound In Ceylon(Fiscle Part-3) by Sir Samuel White Baker (reading books for 4 year olds txt) 📖

Part With Him If He Is Really Good.

 

The Casualties From Leopards,  Boars,  Elk And Lost Dogs Are So Great That

The Pack Is With Difficulty Kept Up By Breeding. It Must Be Remembered

That The Place Of A Lost Dog Cannot Be Easily Supplied In Ceylon. Newera

Ellia Is One Of The Rare Climates In Ceylon Which Is Suited To The

Constitution Of A Dog. In The Low And Hot Climates They Lead A Short And

Miserable Life,  Which Is Soon Ended By A Liver Complaint; Thus If A

Supply For The Pack Cannot Be Kept Up By Breeding,  Hounds Must Be

Procured From England At A Great Expense And Risk.

 

Part 3 Chapter 8 Pg 60

The Pack Now In The Kennel Is As Near Perfection As Can Be Attained For

Elk-Hunting,  Comprising Ten Couple,  Most Of Whom Are Nearly Thoroughbred

Fox-Hounds,  With A Few Couple Of Immense Seizers,  A Cross Between

Bloodhound And Greyhound,  And A Couple Of Large Wire-Haired Lurchers,

Like The Scotch Deer-Hound.

 

In Describing The Sport,  I Must Be Permitted To Call Up The Spirits Of A

Few Heroes,  Who Are Now Dead,  And Place Them In The Vacant Places Which

They Formerly Occupied In The Pack.

 

The First Who Answers To The Magic Call Is `Smut,' Hero Of At Least 400

Deaths Of Elk And Boar. He Appears The Same Well-Remembered Form Of

Strength,  The Sullen Growl Which Greeted Even His Master,  The Numerous

Scars And Seams Upon His Body; Behold Old Smut! His Sire Was A Manilla

Blood-Hound,  Which Accounted For The Extreme Ferocity Of The Son. His

Courage Was Indomitable. He Was A Large Dog,  But Not High,  Considering

His Great Length,  But His Limbs Were Immense In Proportion. His Height

At The Shoulder Was 26 1/2 Inches; His Girth Of Brisket 34 Inches. In

His Younger Days He Always Opened Upon A Scent,  And The Rocky Mountains

And Deep Valleys Have Often Echoed Back His Deep Notes Which Have Now,

Like Himself,  Passed Away. As He Grew Older He Became Cunning,  And He

Ran Entirely Mute,  Knowing Well That The More Noise The Elk Heard Behind

Him The Faster He Would Run. I Have Frequently Known Him To Be Out By

Himself All Night,  And Return The Next Morning Blown Out With Food Which

He Had Procured For Himself By Pulling Down A Doe Single-Handed. When

He Was A Young Dog,  And Gave Tongue Upon A Scent,  A Challenge Was

Offered,  But Never Accepted,  That The Dog Should Find,  Hunt,  And Pull

Down Two Buck Elk,  Single-Handed,  Within A Fortnight,  Assisted Only By

His Master,  With No Other Weapon Than A Hunting-Knife; There Is No Doubt

Whatever That He Would Have Performed It Easily. He Then Belonged To

Lieutenant Pardoe,  Of The 15th Regiment.

 

He Had Several Pitched Battles With Leopards,  From Which He Has Returned

Frightfully Torn,  But With His Yellow Hair Bristled Up,  His Head And

Stern Erect; And His Deep Growl,  With Which He Gave A Dubious Reception

To Both Man And Beast,  Was On These Occasions Doubly Threatening.

 

I Never Knew A Dog That Combined Superlative Valour With Discretion In

The Degree Exhibited By Smut. I Have Seen Many Dogs Who Would Rush

Heedlessly Upon A Boar's Tusks To Certain Destruction; But Smut Would

Never Seize Until The Proper Time Arrived,  And When The Opportunity

Offered He Never Lost It. This Rendered Him Of Great Value In These Wild

Sports,  Where The Dog And His Master Are Mutually Dependent Upon Each

Other. There Was Nothing To Fear If Smut Was There; Whether Boar Or Buck

You Might Advance Fearlessly To Him With The Knife,  With The Confidence

That The Dog Would Pin The Animal The Instant That It Turned To Attack

You; And When He Once Obtained His Hold He Was Seldom Shaken Off Until

In His Old Age,  When He Lost His Teeth. Even Then He Was Always One Of

The First To Seize. Although Comparatively Useless,  The Spirit Was Ever

Willing; And This Courage,  Poor Fellow,  At Length Caused His Death.

 

The Next Dog Who Claims A Tribute To His Memory Is `Killbuck.' He Was An

Australian Greyhound Of The Most Extraordinary Courage. He Stood At The

Part 3 Chapter 8 Pg 61

Shoulder 28 Inches High; Girth Of Brisket,  31 Inches.

 

Instead Of The Surly And Ferocious Disposition Of Smut,  He Was The Most

Gentle And Affectionate Creature. It Was A Splendid Sight To Witness The

Bounding Spring Of Killbuck As He Pinned An Elk At Bay That No Other Dog

Could Touch. He Had A Peculiar Knack Of Seizing That I Never Saw

Equalled; No Matter Where Or In What Position An Elk Might Be,  He Was

Sure To Have Him. When Once Started From The Slips It Was Certain Death

To The Animal He Coursed,  And Even When Out Of View,  And The Elk Had

Taken To The Jungle,  I Have Seen The Dog,  With His Nose To The Ground,

Following Upon The Scent At Full Speed Like A Foxhound. I Never Heard

Him Bark At Game When At Bay. With A Bulldog Courage He Would Recklessly

Fly Straight At The Animal's Head,  Unheeding The Wounds Received In The

Struggle. This Unguided Courage At Length Caused His Death When In The

Very Prime Of His Life. Poor Killbuck! His Was A Short But Glorious

Career,  And His Name Will Never Be Forgotten.

 

Next In Rotation In The Chronicles Of Seizers Appears `Lena,' Who Is

Still Alive,  An Australian Bitch Of Great Size,  Courage,  And Beauty,

Wire-Haired,  Like A Scotch Deerhound.

 

`Bran,' A Perfect Model Of A Greyhound.

 

`Lucifer,' Combining The Beauty,  Speed,  And Courage Of His Parents,

`Bran' And ` Lena,' In A Superlative Degree.

 

There Are Many Others That I Could Call From The Pack And Introduce As

First-Rate Hounds,  But As No Jealousy Will Be Occasioned By Their

Omission,  I Shall Be Contented With Those Already Named.

 

Were I To Recount The Twentieth Part Of The Scenes That I Have Witnessed

In This Sport,  It Would Fill A Volume,  And Become Very Tedious. A Few

Instances Related Will At Once Explain The Whole Character Of The Sport,

And Introduce A Stranger To The Wild Hunts Of The Ceylon Mountains.

 

I Have Already Described Newera Ellia,  With Its Alternate Plains And

Forests,  Its Rapid Streams And Cataracts,  Its Mountains,  Valleys,  And

Precipices; But A Portion Of This Country,  Called The Horton Plains,

Will Need A Further Description.

 

Some Years Ago I Hunted With A Brother Nimrod,  Lieutenant De Montenach,

Of The 15th Regiment,  In This Country; And In Two Months We Killed

Forty-Three Elk.

 

The Horton Plains Are About Twenty Miles From Newera Ellia. After A Walk

Of Sixteen Miles Through Alternate Plains And Forests,  The Steep Ascent

Of Totapella Mountain Is Commenced By A Rugged Path Through Jungle The

Whole Way. So Steep Is The Track That A Horse Ascends With Difficulty,

And Riding Is Of Course Impossible. After A Mile And A Quarter Of Almost

Perpendicular Scrambling,  The Summit Of The Pass Is Reached,  Commanding

A Splendid View Of The Surrounding Country,  And Newera Ellia Can Be Seen

Far Beneath In The Distance. Two Miles Farther On,  After A Walk Through

Undulating Forest,  The Horton Plains Burst Suddenly Upon The View As You

Emerge From The Jungle Path. These Plains Are Nearly 800 Feet Higher

Than Newera Ellia,  Or 7,000 Feet Above The Sea. The Whole Aspect Of The

Country Appears At Once To Have Assumed A New Character; There Is A

Feeling Of Being On The Top Of Everything,  And Instead Of A Valley Among

Surrounding Hills,  Which Is The Feature Of Newera Ellia And The Adjacent

Plains,  A Beautiful Expanse Of Flat Table-Land Stretches Before The Eye,

Bounded By A Few Insignificant Hill-Tops. There Is A Peculiar Freedom In

The Horton Plains,  An Absence From Everywhere,  A Wildness In The Thought

That There Is No Tame Animal Within Many Miles,  Not A Village,  Nor Hut,

Nor Human Being. It Makes A Man Feel In Reality One Of The 'Lords Of The

Creation' When He First Stands Upon This Elevated Plain,  And,  Breathing

The Pure Thin Air,  He Takes A Survey Of His Hunting-Ground: No

Boundaries But Mountain Tops And The Horizon; No Fences But The Trunks

Of Decayed Trees Fallen From Old Age; No Game Laws But Strong Legs,  Good

Wind,  And The Hunting-Knife; No Paths But Those Trodden By The Elk And

Elephant. Every Nook And Corner Of This Wild Country Is As Familiar To

Me As My Own Garden. There Is Not A Valley That Has Not Seen A Burst In

Full Cry; Not A Plain That Has Not Seen The Greyhounds In Full Speed

After An Elk; And Not A Deep Pool In The River That Has Not Echoed With

A Bay That Has Made The Rocks Ring Again.

 

To Give A Person An Interest In The Sport,  The Country Must Be Described

Minutely. The Plain Already Mentioned As The Flat Table-Land First Seen

On Arrival,  Is About Five Miles In Length,  And Two In Breadth In The

Widest Part. This Is Tolerably Level,  With A Few Gentle Undulations,  And

Is Surrounded,  On All Sides But One,  With Low,  Forest-Covered Slopes.

The Low Portions Of The Plains Are Swamps,  From Which Springs A Large

River,  The Source Of The Mahawelli Ganga.

 

From The Plain Now Described About Fifteen Others Diverge,  Each

Springing From The Parent Plain,  And Increasing In Extent As They

Proceed; These Are Connected More Or Less By Narrow Valleys,  And Deep

Ravines. Through The Greater Portion Of These Plains,  The River Winds

Its Wild Course. In The First A Mere Brook,  It Rapidly Increases As It

Traverses The Lower Portions Of Every Valley,  Until It Attains A Width

Of Twenty Or Thirty Yards,  Within A Mile Of The Spot Where It Is First

Discernible As A Stream. Every Plain In Succession Being Lower Than The

First,  The Course Of The River Is Extremely Irregular; Now A Maze Of

Tortuous Winding,  Then A Broad,  Still Stream,  Bounded By Grassy

Undulations; Now Rushing Wildly Through A Hundred Channels Formed By

Obtruding Rocks,  Then In A Still,  Deep Pool,  Gathering Itself Together

For A Mad Leap Over A Yawning Precipice,  And Roaring At A Hundred Feet

Beneath,  It Settles In The Lower Plain In A Pool Of Unknown Depth; And

Once More It Murmurs Through Another Valley.

 

In The Large Pools Formed By The Sudden Turns In The River,  The Elk

Generally Takes His Last Determined Stand,  And He Sometimes Keeps Dogs

And Men At Bay For A Couple Of Hours. These Pools Are Generally About

Sixty Yards Across,  Very Deep In Some Parts,  With A Large Shallow

Sandbank In The Centre,  Formed By The Eddy Of The River.

 

We Built A Hunting Bivouac In A Snug Corner Of The Plains,  Which Gloried

In The Name Of 'Elk Lodge.' This Famous Hermitage Was A Substantial