I have frequently walked ten miles to my hunting grounds,
starting before daybreak, and then after a good day's sport up
and down the steep mountains, I have returned home in the
evening. But this is twelve hours' work, and it is game thrown
away, as there is no possibility of getting the dead elk home.
An animal that weighs between four hundred and four hundred and
fifty pounds without his insides, is not a very easy creature to
move; at any time, especially in such a steep mountainous country
as the neighborhood of Newera Ellia. As previously described, at
the base of the mountains are cultivated rice-lands, generally
known as paddy-fields, where numerous villages have sprung up
from the facility with which a supply of water is obtained from
the wild mountains above them. I have so frequently given the
people elk and hogs which I have killed on the heights above
their paddy-fields that they are always on the alert at the sound
of the bugle, and a few blasts from the mountain-top immediately
creates a race up from the villages, some two or three thousand
feet below. Like vultures scenting carrion, they know that an
elk is killed, and they start off to the well-known sound like a
pack of trained hounds. Being thorough mountaineers, they are
extraordinary fellows for climbing the steep grassy sides. With
a light stick about six feet long in one hand, they will start
from the base of the mountains and clamber up the hillsides in a
surprisingly short space of time, such as would soon take the
conceit out of a "would-be pedestrian." This is owing to the
natural advantages of naked feet and no inexpressibles.
Whenever an elk has given a long run in the direction of this
country, and after a persevering and arduous chase of many hours,
I have at length killed him on the grassy heights above the
villages, I always take a delight in watching the tiny specks
issuing from the green strips of paddy as the natives start off
at the sound of the horn.
At this altitude, it requires a sharp eye to discern a man, but
at length they are seen scrambling up the ravines and gullies and
breasting the sharp pitches, until at last the first man arrives
thoroughly used up and a string of fellows of lesser wind come
in, in sections, all thoroughly blown.
However, the first man in never gets the lion's share, as the
poor old men, with willing spirits and weak flesh, always bring
up the rear, and I insist upon a fair division between the old
and young, always giving an extra piece to a man who happens to
know a little English. This is a sort of reward for
acquirements, equivalent to a university degree, and he is
considered a literary character by his fellows.
There is nothing that these people appreciate so much as elk and
hog's flesh. Living generally upon boiled rice and curry
composed of pumpkins and sweet potatoes, they have no
opportunities of tasting meat unless upon these occasions.
During the very wet weather at Newera Ellia I sometimes take the
pack and bivouac for a fortnight in the fine-weather country.
About a week previous I send down word to the village people of
my intention, but upon these occasions I never give them the elk.
I always insist upon their bringing rice, etc., for the dogs and
myself in exchange for venison, otherwise I should have some
hundreds of noisy, idle vagabonds flocking up to me like
carrion-crows.
Of course I give them splendid bargains, as I barter simply on
the principle that no man shall come for nothing. Thus, if a man
assist in building the kennel, or carrying a load, or cutting
bed-grass, or searching for lost hounds, he gets a share of meat.
The others bring rice, coffee, fowls, eggs, plantains,
vegetables, etc., which I take at ridiculous rates-a bushel of
rice for a full-grown elk, etc., the latter being worth a couple
of pounds and the rice about seven shillings. Thus the hounds
keep themselves in rice and supply me with everything that I
require during the trip, at the same time gratifying the natives.
The direct route to this country was unknown to Europeans at
Newera Ellia until I discovered it one day, accidentally, in
following the hounds.
A large tract of jungle-covered hill stretches away from the Moon
Plains at Newera Ellia toward the east, forming a hog's back of
about three and a half miles in length. Upon the north side this
shelves into a deep gorge, at the bottom of which flows, or
rather tumbles, Fort M'Donald river on its way to the low
country, through forest-covered hills and perpendicular cliffs,
until it reaches the precipitous patina mountains, when, in a
succession of large cataracts, it reaches the paddy-fields in the
first village of Peréwellé (guava paddy-field). Thus the river
in the gorge below runs parallel to the long hog's back of
mountain. This is bordered on the other side by another ravine
and smaller torrent, to which the Badulla road runs parallel
until it reaches the mountain of Hackgalla, at which place the
ravine deepens into the misty gorge already described.
At one time, if an elk crossed the Badulla road and gained the
Hog's Back jungle, both he and the hounds were lost, as no one
could follow through such impenetrable jungle without knowing
either the distance or direction.
"They are gone to Fort M'Donald river!" This was the despairing
exclamation at all times when the pack crossed the road, and we
seldom saw the hounds again until late that night or on the
following day.
