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.
