The smoke cleared
from the thick bushes, and she lay dead at SIX FEET from the spot where
I stood. The ball was in the centre of her forehead, and B., who had
fired over my shoulder so instantaneously with me that I was not aware
of it, had placed his ball within three inches of mine. Had she been
missed, I should have fired my last shot.
This had been a glorious hunt; many miles had been gone over, but by
great luck, when the wind dropped and the elephant altered her course,
she had been making a circuit for the very field of korrakan at which we
had first found her. We were thus not more than three miles from our
resting-place, and the trackers who know every inch of the country, soon
brought us to the main road.
The poonchy and the bull elephant, having both separated from the
female, escaped.
One great cause of danger in shooting in thick jungles is the obscurity
occasioned by the smoke of the first barrel; this cannot escape from the
surrounding bushes for some time, and effectually prevents a certain aim
with the remaining barrel. In wet weather this is much increased.
For my own part I dislike shooting in thick jungles, and I very seldom
do so. It is extremely dangerous, and is like shooting in the dark; you
never see the game until you can almost touch it, and the labour and
pain of following up elephants through thorny jungle is beyond
description.
On our return to the post-holder's hut we dined and prepared for sleep.
It was a calm night, and not a sound disturbed the stillness of the air.
The tired coolies and servants were fast asleep, the lamp burnt dimly,
being scantily fed with oil, and we were in the act of lying down to
rest when a frightful scream made us spring to our feet. There was
something so unearthly in the yell that we could hardly believe it
human. The next moment a figure bounded into the little room that we
occupied. It was a black, stark naked. His tongue, half bitten through,
protruded from his mouth; his bloodshot eyes, with a ghastly stare, were
straining from their sockets, and he stood gazing at us with his arms
extended wide apart. Another horrible scream burst from him, and he fell
flat upon his back.
The post-holder and a whole crowd of awakened coolies now assembled, and
they all at once declared that the man had a devil. The fact is, he had
a fit of epilepsy, and his convulsions were terrible. Without moving a
limb he flapped here and there like a salmon when just landed. I had
nothing with me that would relieve him, and I therefore left him to the
hands of the post-holder, who prided himself upon his skill in
exorcising devils. All his incantations produced no effect, and the
unfortunate patient suddenly sprang to his feet and rushed madly into
the thorny jungle. In this we heard him crashing through like a wild
beast, and I do not know to this day whether he was ever heard of
afterwards.
The Cingalese have a thorough belief in the presence of devils; one sect
are actually `devil-WORSHIPPERS,' but the greater portion of the natives
are Bhuddists. Among this nation the missionaries make very slow
progress. There is no character to work upon in the Cingalese: they are
faithless, cunning, treacherous, and abject cowards; superstitious in
the extreme, and yet unbelieving in any one God. A converted Bhuddist
will address his prayers to our God if he thinks he can obtain any
temporal benefit by so doing, but, if not, he would be just as likely to
pray to Bhudda or to the devil.
I once saw a sample of heathen conversion in Ceylon that was enough to
dishearten a missionary.
A Roman Catholic chapel had been erected in a wild part of the country
by some zealous missionary, who prided himself upon the number of his
converts. He left his chapel during a few weeks' absence in some other
district, during which time his converts paid their devotion to the
Christian altar. They had made a few little additions to the ornaments
of the altar, which must have astonished the priest on his return.
There was an image of our Saviour and the **Virgin:** that was all
according to custom. But there were also 'three images of Bhudda,' a
coloured plaster-of-Paris image of the Queen and Prince Albert upon the
altar, and a very questionable penny print in vivid colours hanging over
the altar, entitled the 'Stolen Kiss.' So much for the conversion of the
heathen in Ceylon. The attempt should only be made in the schools, where
the children may be brought up as Christians, but the idea of converting
the grown-up heathen is a fallacy.
CHAPTER V.
The Four-ounce again--Tidings of a Rogue--Approaching a Tank Rogue --An
Exciting Moment--Ruins of Pollanarua--Ancient Ruins--Rogues at
Doolana--B. Charged by a Rogue--Planning an Attack--A Check--Narrow
Escape--Rogue-stalking--A Bad Rogue--Dangers of Elephant-shooting--The
Rhatamahatmeya's Tale.
A broken nipple in my long two-ounce rifle took me to Trincomalee, about
seventy miles out of my proposed route. Here I had it punched out and
replaced with a new one, which I fortunately had with me. No one who has
not experienced the loss can imagine the disgust occasioned by an
accident to a favourite rifle in a wild country. A spare nipple and
mainspring for each barrel and lock should always be taken on a shooting
trip.
In passing by Kandelly, on my return from Trincomalee, I paid a second
visit to the lake.
