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

The Greyhounds In

Full Speed. There Was No Mistaking The Bay. I Could Now Distinguish

Merriman's Fine Voice In Addition To That Of Old Smut,  And A General

Chorus Of Other Tongues Joined In,  Till The Woods Rang Again. The Horses

Knew The Sport,  And Away They Went,  But Suddenly Over Went Old Jack,

Belly-Deep In A Bog,  And Sent Me Flying Over His Head. There Is Nothing

Like Companionship In An Accident,  And Momus Accordingly Pitched Upon

His Nose In The Same Bog,  My Brother Describing A Fine Spread-Eagle As

He Sprawled In The Soft Ground,  We Were Close To The Bay; The Horses

Extricated Themselves Directly,  And Again Mounting We Rode Hard To The

Spot

 

The Buck Was At Bay In The River,  And The Exhausted Dogs Were Yelling At

Him From The Bank. The Instant That We Arrived And Cheered Them On,  Old

Smut Came From The Pack Towards Us With An Expression Of Perfect

Delight; He Gave Himself Two Or Three Rolls On The Grass,  And Then Went

To The Fight Like A Lion. The Buck,  However,  Suddenly Astonished The

Whole Pack By Jumping Out Of The River,  And,  Charging Right Through

Them,  He Started Over The Plain Towards The Jungle,  With The Hounds

After Him. He Had Refreshed Himself By Standing For So Long In The Cold

Stream,  While The Dogs,  On The Contrary,  Were Nearly Worn Out. He

Reached The Jungle With The Whole Pack At His Heels; But After Doubling

Backward And Forward In The Forest For About Five Minutes,  We Heard The

Crash In The Bushes As He Once More Rushed Towards The Plain,  And He

Broke Cover In Fine Style,  With The Three Greyhounds,  Bran,  Lucifer And

Lena,  At His Haunches. In Another Instant He Was Seized,  But He Fell

With Such A Shock That It Threw The Greyhounds From Their Hold,  And

Recovering Himself With Wonderful Quickness,  He Went Down The Slope

Towards The River At A Tremendous Pace. The Greyhounds Overtook Him Just

As He Gained The Steep Bank Of The River,  And They All Rolled Over In A

Confused Crowd Into The Deep Water.

 

The Next Moment The Buck Was Seen Swimming Proudly Down The River,  With

The Pack Following Him Down The Stream In Full Cry. Presently He Gained

His Footing,  And,  Disdaining Farther Flight,  He Turned Bravely Upon The

Hounds.

 

He Was A Splendid Fellow; His Nostrils Were Distended,  His Mane Was

Bristled Up,  And His Eyes Flashed,  As,  Rearing To His Full Height,  He

Plunged Forward And Struck The Leading Dogs Under The Water. Not A Dog

Could Touch Him; One By One They Were Beaten Down And Half-Drowned

Beneath The Water. Old Smut Was To The Front As Usual: Down The Old Dog

Was Beaten,  But He Reappeared Behind The Elk's Shoulder,  And The Next

Moment He Was Hanging On His Ear. The Poor Old Dog Had Lost So Many Of

His Teeth In These Encounters That He Could Not Keep His Hold,  And The

Buck Gave A Tremendous Spring Forward,  Shaking Off The Old Dog And

Charging Through The Pack,  Sinking Nearly Half Of Them For A Few Moments

Part 3 Chapter 11 Pg 88

Beneath The Water. He Had Too Much Pluck To Fly Farther,  And,  After

Wading Shoulder-Deep Against The Stream For A Few Yards,  He Turned

Majestically Round,  And,  Facing The Baying Pack,  He Seemed Determined To

Do Or Die. I Never Saw A Finer Animal; There Was A Proud Look Of

Defiance In His Aspect That Gave Him A Most Noble Appearance; But At

That Time He Had Little Pity Bestowed Upon Him.

 

There He Stood Ready To Meet The First Dog. Old Smut Had Been Thrown To

The Rear As The Buck Turned,  And Lena Came Beautifully To The Front,

Leading The Whole Pack. There Was A Shallow Sandbank In The River Where

The Bitch Could Get A Footing,  And She Dashed Across It To The Attack.

The Buck Met Her In Her-Advance By A Sudden Charge,  Which Knocked Her

Over And Over,  But At The Same Instant Valiant,  Who Is A Fine,  Powerful

Dog,  Made A Clever Spring Forward And Pinned The Buck By The Ear. There

Was No Shaking Him Off,  And He Was Immediately Backed Up By Ploughboy,

Who Caught The Other Ear Most Cleverly. There The Two Dogs Hung Like

Ear-Rings As The Buck,  Rearing Up,  Swung Them To And Fro,  But Could Not

Break Their Hold. In Another Moment The Greyhounds Were Upon Him-The

Whole Pack Covered Him; His Beautiful Form Was Seen Alternately Rearing

From The Water With The Dogs Hanging Upon Him In All Directions,  Then

Struggling In A Confused Mass Nearly Beneath The Surface Of The Stream.

He Was A Brave Fellow,  And Had Fought Nobly,  But There Was No Hope For

Him,  And We Put An End To The Fight With The Hunting-Knife.

 

It Was Past Four O'clock P.M.,  And He Had Been Found At Seven A.M.,  But

The Conclusion Fully Repaid Us For The Day's Work. The Actual Distance

Run By The Buck Was Not Above Eight Miles,  But We Had Gone About Twenty

During The Day,  The Greater Portion Of Which Was Over Most Fatiguing

Ground.

 

On An Open Country An Elk Would Never Be Caught Without Greyhounds Until

He Had Run Fifteen Or Twenty Miles. The Dense Jungles Fatigue Him As He

Ploughs His Way Through Them,  And Thus Forms A Path For The Dogs Behind

Him. How He Can Move In Some Of These Jungles Is An Enigma; A Horse

Would Break His Legs,  And,  In Fact,  Could Not Stir In Places Through

Which An Elk Passes In Full Gallop.

 

The Principal Underwood In The Mountain Districts Of Ceylon Is The

'Nillho.' This Is A Perfectly Straight Stem,  From Twelve To Twenty Feet

In Length,  And About An Inch And A Half In Diameter,  Having No Branches

Except A Few Small Arms At The Top,  Which Are Covered With Large Leaves.

This Plant,  In Proportion To Its Size,  Grows As Close As Corn In A

Field,  And Forms A Dense Jungle Most Difficult To Penetrate. When The

Jungles Are In This State,  The Elk Is At A Disadvantage,  As The Immense

Exertion Required To Break His Way Through This Mass Soon Fatigues Him,

And Forces Him To Come To Bay.

 

Every Seven Years This 'Nillho' Blossoms. The Jungles Are Then Neither

More Nor Less Than Vast Bouquets Of Bright Purple And White Flowers; The

Perfume Is Delicious,  And Swarms Of Bees Migrate From Other Countries To

Make Their Harvest Of Honey. The Quantity Collected Is Extraordinary.

Part 3 Chapter 11 Pg 89

The Bee-Hunters Start From The Low Country,  And Spend Weeks In The

Jungle In Collecting The Honey And Wax. When Looking Over An Immense

Tract Of Forest From Some Elevated Point,  The Thin Blue Lines Of Smoke

May Be Seen Rising In Many Directions,  Marking The Sites Of The

Bee-Hunters Fires. Their Method Of Taking The Honey Is Simple Enough.

The Bees' Nests Hang From The Boughs Of The Trees,  And A Man Ascends

With A Torch Of Green Leaves,  Which Creates A Dense Smoke. He Approaches

The Nest And Smokes Off The Swarm,  Which,  On Quitting The Exterior Of

The Comb,  Exposes A Beautiful Circular Mass Of Honey And Wax,  Generally

About Eighteen Inches In Diameter And Six Inches Thick. The Bee-Hunter

Being Provided With Vessels Formed From The Rind Of The Gourd Attached

To Ropes,  Now Cuts Up The Comb And Fills His Chatties,  Lowering Them

Down To His Companions Below.

 

When The Blossom Of The Nillho Fades,  The Seed Forms; This Is A Sweet

Little Kernel,  With The Flavour Of A Nut. The Bees Now Leave The

Country,  And The Jungles Suddenly Swarm,  As Though By Magic,  With

Pigeons,  Jungle-Fowl,  And Rats. At Length The Seed Is Shed And The

Nillho Dies.

 

The Jungles Then Have A Curious Appearance. The Underwood Being Dead,

The Forest-Trees Rise From A Mass Of Dry Sticks Like Thin Hop-Poles. The

Roots Of These Plants Very Soon Decay,  And A Few Weeks Of High Wind,

Howling Through The Forest,  Levels The Whole Mass,  Leaving The Trees

Standing Free From Underwood. The Appearance Of The Ground Can Now Be

Imagined-A Perfect Chaos Of Dead Sticks And Poles,  Piled One On The

Other,  In Every Direction,  To A Depth Of Between Two And Three Feet. It

Can Only Be Compared To A Mass Of Hurdles Being Laid In A Heap. The

Young Nillho Grows Rapidly Through This,  Concealing The Mass Of Dead

Sticks Beneath,  And Forms A Tangled Barrier Which Checks Both Dogs And

Man. With Tough Gaiters To Guard The Shins,  We Break Through By Main

Force And Weight,  And The Dogs Scramble Sometimes Over,  Sometimes Under

The Surface. At This Period The Elk Are In Great Numbers,  As They Feed

With Great Avidity Upon The Succulent Young Nillho. The Dogs Are Now At

A Disadvantage. While They Are Scrambling With Difficulty Through This

Mass Of Half-Rotten Sticks,  The Elk Bounds Over It With Ease,  Leaving No

Path Behind Him,  As He Clears It By Leaps,  And Does Not Exhaust Himself

By Bursting Through It. He Now Constantly Escapes,  And Leaves The Pack

Miles Behind; The Best Hounds Follow Him,  But With Such A Start He Leads

Them Into The Unknown Depths Of The Jungles,  Over High Mountains And

Across Deep Ravines,  From Which The Lost Dogs Frequently Never Return.

 

There Can Be No Question That It Is A Bad Country For Hunting At All

Times,  As The Mass Of Forest Is So Disproportionate To The Patinas; But,

On The Other Hand,  Were The Forests Of Smaller Size There Would Be Less

Game. Elk-Hunting Is,  On The Whole,  Fine Sport. There Are Many

Disappointments Constantly Occurring,  But These Must Happen In All

Sports. The Only Important Drawback To The Pleasure Of Elk-Hunting Is

The Constant Loss Of The Dogs. The Best Are Always Sure To Go. What With

Deaths By Boars,  Leopards,  Elk,  And Stray Hounds,  The Pack Is With

Difficulty Maintained. Puppies Are Constantly Lost In The Commencement

Of Their Training By Straying Too Far Into The Jungle,  And Sometimes By

Reckless Valour. I Lost A Fine Young Greyhound,  Lancer,  Own Brother To

Part 3 Chapter 11 Pg 90

Lucifer,  In This Way. It Was His First Day With The Pack.

 

We Found A Buck Who Came To Bay In A Deep Rocky Torrent,  Where The Dogs

Had No Chance With Him,  And He Amused Himself By Striking Them Under

Water At His Pleasure. He At Length Took His Stand Among Some Large

Rocks,  Between Which The