There was no doubt that he had received the stroke at the same
time that Lena was wounded beneath the rocky mountain when the
elk was at bay; and nevertheless, the staunch old dog had
persevered in the chase till the difficulty of breathing brought
him to a standstill. I bathed the wounds, but I knew it was his
last day, poor old fellow!
I sounded the bugle for a few minutes, and having collected some
of the scattered pack I returned to the tent, leading the wounded
dog, whose breathing rapidly became more difficult. I lost no
time in fomenting and poulticing the part, but the swelling had
commenced to such an extent that there was little hope of
recovery.
This was a dark day for the pack. Benton returned in the
afternoon from a search for the missing hounds, and, as he
descended the deep hill-side on approaching the tent, I saw tent
he and a native were carrying something slung upon a pole. At
first I thought it was an elk's head, which the missing hounds
might have run to bay, but on his arrival the worst was soon
known.
It was poor Leopold, one of my best dogs. He was all but dead,
with hopeless wounds in his throat and belly. He had been struck
by a leopard within a few yards of Benton's side, and, with his
usual pluck, the dog turned upon the leopard in spite of his
wounds, when the cowardly brute, seeing the man, turned and fled.
That night Leopold died. The next morning Bluebeard was so bad
that I returned home with him slung in a litter between two men.
Poor fellow! he never lived to reach his comfortable kennel, but
died in the litter within a mile of home. I had him buried by
the side of old Smut, and there are no truer dogs on the earth
than the two that there lie together.
A very few weeks after Bluebeard's death, however, I got a taste
of revenge out of one of the race.
Palliser and I were out shooting, and we found a single bull
elephant asleep in the dry bed of a stream; we were stealing
quietly up to him, when his guardian spirit whispered something
in his ear, and up he jumped. However, we polished him off, and
having reloaded, we passed on.
The country consisted of low, thorny jungle and small sandy
plains of short turf, and we were just entering one of these open
spots within a quarter of a mile of the dead elephant, when we
observed a splendid leopard crouching at the far end of the
glade. He was about ninety paces from us, lying broadside on,
with his head turned to the opposite direction, evidently looking
out for game. His crest was bristled up with excitement, and he
formed a perfect picture of beauty both in color and attitude.
Halting our gun-bearers, we stalked him within sixty yards; he
looked quickly round, and his large hazel eyes shone full upon
us, as the two rifles made one report, and his white belly lay
stretched upon the ground.
They were both clean shots: Palliser had aimed at his head, and
had cut off one ear and laid the skin open at the back of the
neck. My ball had smashed both shoulders, but life was not
fairly extinct. We therefore strangled him with my necktie, as I
did not wish to spoil his hide by any further wound. This was a
pleasing sacrifice to the "manes" of old Bluebeard.
E. Palliser had at one time the luck to have a fair turn up with
a leopard with the dogs and hunting-knife. At that time he kept
a pack at Dimboola, about nine miles from my house. Old
Bluebeard belonged to him, and he had a fine dog named "Pirate,"
who was the heaviest and best of his seizers.
He was out hunting with two or three friends, when suddenly a
leopard sprang from the jungle at one of the smaller hounds as
they were passing quietly along a forest path. Halloaing the
pack on upon the instant, every dog gave chase, and a short run
brought him to bay in the usual place of refuge, the boughs of a
tree.
However, it so happened that there was a good supply of large
sharp stones upon the soil, and with these the whole party kept
up a spirited bombardment, until at length one lucky shot hit him
on the head, and at the same moment he fell or jumped into the
middle of the pack. Here Pirate came to the front in grand style
and collared him, while the whole pack backed him up without an
exception.
There was a glorious struggle of course, which was terminated by
the long arm of our friend Palliser, who slipped the
hunting-knife into him and became a winner. This is the only
instance that I know of a leopard being run into and killed with
hounds and a knife.
CHAPTER XIII. Wild Denizens of Forest and Lake - Destroyers of
Reptiles - The Tree Duck - The Mysteries of Night in the Forest -
The Devil-Bird - The Iguanodon in Miniature - Outrigger Canoes -
The Last Glimpse of Ceylon - A Glance at Old Times.
One of the most interesting objects to a tourist in Ceylon is a
secluded lake or tank in those jungle districts which are seldom
disturbed by the white man. There is something peculiarly
striking in the wonderful number of living creatures which exist
upon the productions of the water. Birds of infinite variety and
countless numbers - fish in myriads - reptiles and crocodiles
-animals that feed upon the luxuriant vegetation of the shores -
insects which sparkle in the sunshine in every gaudy hue; all
these congregate in the neighborhood of these remote solitudes,
and people the lakes with an incalculable host of living beings.
