The
buck had taken up a position in a small glade, and was charging the dog
furiously; but the pariah was too knowing to court the danger, and kept
well out of the way. I shot the buck, and, tying a piece of jungle-rope
to the dog's neck, gave him to a gun-bearer to lead, as I hoped he might
be again useful in hunting up a wounded deer.
I had not proceeded more than half a mile, when we arrived at the edge
of a small sluggish stream, covered in most places with rushes and
water-lilies. We forded this about hip-deep, but the gun-bearer who had
the dog could not prevail upon our mute companion to follow; he pulled
violently back and shrinked, and evinced every symptom of terror at the
approach of water.
I was now at the opposite bank, and nothing would induce him to come
near the river, so I told the gun-bearer to drag him across by force.
This he accordingly did, and the dog swam with frantic exertions across
the river, and managed to disengage his head from the rope. The moment
that he arrived on terra firma he rushed up a steep bank and looked
attentively down into the water beneath.
We now gave him credit for his sagacity in refusing to cross the
dangerous passage. The reeds bowed down to the right and left as a huge
crocodile of about eighteen feet in length moved slowly from his shallow
bed into a deep hole. The dog turned to the right-about, and went off as
fast as his legs would carry him. No calling or whistling would induce
him to return, and I never saw him again. How he knew that a crocodile
was in the stream I cannot imagine. He must have had a narrow escape at
some former time, which was a lesson that he seemed determined to profit
by.
Shortly after the disappearance of the dog, I separated from my
companion and took a different line of country. Large plains, with
thorny jungles and bushes of the long cockspur thorn interspersed,
formed the character of the ground. This place literally swarmed with
peafowl, partridges, and deer. I killed another peacock, and the shot
disturbed a herd of about sixty deer, who bounded over the plain till
out of sight. I tracked up this herd for nearly a mile, when I observed
them behind a large bush; some were lying down and others were standing.
A buck and doe presently quitted the herd, and advancing a few paces
from the bush they halted, and evidently winded me.