The habits of this animal are purely nocturnal. He commences his
wanderings at sunset, and retires to the forest at break of day. He is
seldom found in greater numbers than two or three together, and is
generally alone. When brought to bay he fights to the last, and charges
man and hound indiscriminately, a choice hound killed being often the
price of victory.
The country in which he is hunted is in the mountainous districts of
Ceylon. Situated at an elevation of 6,200 feet above the sea is Newera
Ellia, the sanatorium of the island. Here I have kept a pack and hunted
elk for some years, the delightful coolness of the temperature (seldom
above 66 degrees Fahr.) rendering the sport doubly enjoyable. The
principal features of this country being a series of wild marsh, plains,
forests, torrents, mountains and precipices, a peculiar hound is
required for the sport.
A pack of thoroughbred fox-hounds would never answer. They would pick up
a cold scent and open upon it before they were within a mile of their
game. Roused from his morning nap, the buck would snuff the breeze, and
to the distant music give an attentive ear, then shake the dew from his
rough hide, and away over rocks and torrents, down the steep mountain
sides, through pathless forests; and woe then to the pack of
thoroughbreds, whose persevering notes would soon be echoed by the rocky
steeps, far, far away from any chance of return, lost in the trackless
jungles and ravines many miles from kennel, a prey to leopards and
starvation! I have proved this by experience, having brought a pack of
splendid hounds from England, only one of which survived a few months'
hunting.
The hound required for elk-hunting is a cross between the fox-hound and
blood-hound, of great size and courage, with as powerful a voice as
possible. He should be trained to this sport from a puppy, and his
natural sagacity soon teaches him not to open unless upon a hot scent,
or about two hundred yards from his game; thus the elk is not disturbed
until the hound is at full speed upon his scent, and he seldom gets a
long start. Fifteen couple of such hounds in full cry put him at his
best pace, which is always tried to the uttermost by a couple or two of
fast and pitiless lurchers who run ahead of the pack, the object being
to press him at first starting, so as to blow him at the very
commencement: this is easily effected, as he is full of food, and it is
his nature always to take off straight UP the hill when first disturbed.
When blown he strikes down hill, and makes at great speed for the
largest and deepest stream; in this he turns to bay, and tries the
mettle of the finest hounds.
The great enemy to a pack is the leopard. He pounces from the branch of
a tree upon a stray hound, and soon finishes him, unless of great size
and courage, in which case the cowardly brute is soon beaten off. This
forms another reason for the choice of large hounds.
The next sport is 'deer-coursing.' This is one of the most delightful
kinds of sport in Ceylon. The game is the axis or spotted deer, and the
open plains in many parts of the low country afford splendid ground for
both greyhound and horse.
The buck is about 250 pounds live weight, of wonderful speed and great
courage, armed with long and graceful antlers as sharp as needles. He
will suddenly turn to bay upon the hard ground, and charge his pursuers,
and is more dangerous to the greyhounds than the elk, from his wonderful
activity, and from the fact that he is coursed by only a pair of
greyhounds, instead of being hunted by a pack.
Pure greyhounds of great size and courage are best adapted for this
sport. They cannot afford to lose speed by a cross with slower hounds.
CHAPTER II.
Newera Ellia - The Turn-out for Elk-Hunting - Elk-Hunting - Elk turned
to Bay - The Boar.
Where shall I begin? This is a momentous question, when, upon glancing
back upon past years, a thousand incidents jostle each other for
precedence. How shall I describe them? This, again, is easier asked than
answered. A journal is a dry description, mingling the uninteresting
with the brightest moments of sport. No, I will not write a journal; it
would be endless and boring. I shall begin with the present as it is,
and call up the past as I think proper.
Here, then, I am in my private sanctum, my rifles all arranged in their
respective stands above the chimney-piece, the stags' horns round walls
hung with horn-cases, powder-flasks and the various weapons of the
chase. Even as I write the hounds are yelling in the kennel.
The thermometer is at 62 degrees Fahr., and it is mid-day. It never
exceeds 72 degrees in the hottest weather, and sometimes falls below
freezing point at night. The sky is spotless and the air calm. The
fragrance of mignonettes, and a hundred flowers that recall England,
fills the air. Green fields of grass and clover, neatly fenced, surround
a comfortable house and grounds. Well-fed cattle of the choicest breeds,
and English sheep, are grazing in the paddocks. Well-made roads and
gravel walks run through the estate. But a few years past, and this was
all wilderness.
Dense forest reigned where now not even the stump of a tree is standing;
the wind howled over hill and valley, the dank moss hung from the
scathed branches, the deep morass filled the hollows; but all is changed
by the hand of civilisation and industry.
