We had thus travelled over forty-four miles of country from Minneria without killing a single head of game. Had we remained a week in the district through which we had passed so rapidly, we must have had most excellent sport. All this was the effect of being hurried for time.

In the neighbourhood of Doolana I had killed many elephants some years ago, and I have no doubt we could have had good sport at this time; but V. Baker's leave was so fast expiring, and the natives' accounts of the distance through the Veddah country were so vague, that we had no choice except to push straight through as fast as we could travel, until we should arrive on the Batticaloa path.

We took leave of our friend the Rhatamahatmeya; he had provided us with good trackers, who were to accompany us through the Veddah country to the 'Park'; but I now began to have my doubts as to their knowledge of the ground. However, we started, and after skirting the Doolana tank for some distance, we rode five miles through fine forest, and then arrived on the banks of the Mahawelle river. The stream teas at this time very rapid, and was a quarter of a mile in width, rolling along between its steep banks through a forest of magnificent trees. Some hours were consumed in transporting the coolies and baggage across the river, as the canoe belonging to the village of Monampitya, on the opposite bank, would only hold four coolies and their loads at one voyage.

We swam the horses across, and attending carefully to the safety of the cook before any other individual, we breakfasted on the opposite bank, while the coolies were crossing the river.

After breakfast, a grave question arose, viz., which way were we to go? The trackers that the headman had given us, now confessed that they did not know an inch of the Veddah country, into which we had arrived by crossing the river, and they refused to go a step farther. Here, was a 'regular fix!' as the Americans would express it.

The village of Monampitya consists of about six small huts; and we now found that there was no other village within forty miles in the direction that we wished to steer. Not a soul could we obtain as a guide—no offer of reward would induce a man to start, as they declared that no one knew the country, and that the distance was so great that the people would be starved, as they could get nothing to eat. We looked hopelessly at the country before us. We had a compass, certainly, which might be useful enough on a desert or a prairie, but in a jungle country it was of little value.

Just as we were in the greatest despair, and we were gazing wistfully in the direction which the needle pointed out as the position of the 'Park,' now separated from us by an untravelled district of an unknown distance, we saw two figures with bows and arrows coming from the jungle. One of these creatures bolted back again into the bushes the moment he perceived us; the other one had a fish in his hand, of about four pounds weight, which he had shot with his bow and arrow; while he was hesitating whether he should run or stand still, we caught him.

Of all the ugly little devils I ever saw, he was superlative. He squinted terribly; his hair was greyish and matted with filth; he was certainly not more than four feet and a half high, and he carried a bow two feet longer than himself. He could speak no language but his own, which throughout the Veddah country is much the same, intermixed with so many words resembling Cingalese that a native can generally understand their meaning. By proper management, and some little presents of rice and tobacco, we got the animal into a good humour, and we gathered the following in formation.

He knew nothing of any place except the northern portion of the Veddah country. This was his world; but his knowledge of it was extremely limited, as he could not undertake to guide us farther than Oomanoo, a Veddah village, which he described as three days' journey from where we then stood. We made him point out the direction in which it lay. This he did, after looking for some moments at the sun; and, upon comparing the position with the compass, we were glad to see it at south-south-east, being pretty close to the course that we wished to steer. From Oomanoo, he said, we could procure another Veddah to guide us still farther; but he himself knew nothing more.

Now this was all satisfactory enough so far, but I had been completely wrong in my idea of the distance from Doolana to the 'Park.' We now heard of three days' journey to Oomanoo, which was certainly some where in the very centre of the Veddah country; and our quaint little guide had never even heard of the Batticaloa road. There was no doubt, therefore, that it was a long way from Oomanoo, which village might be any distance from us, as a Veddah's description of a day's journey might vary from ten to thirty miles.

I certainly looked forward to a short allowance of food both for ourselves and coolies. We had been hurrying through the country at such a rate that we had killed no deer; we had, therefore, been living upon our tins of preserved provisions, of which we had now only four remaining.

At the village of Monampitya there was no rice procurable, as the natives lived entirely upon korrakan* (*A small seed, which they make into hard, uneatable cakes.), at which our coolies turned up their noses when I advised them to lay in a stock before starting.

There was no time to be lost, and we determined to push on as fast as the coolies could follow, as they had only two days' provisions; we had precisely the same, and those could not be days of feasting. We were, in fact, like sailors going to sea with a ship only half-victualled; and, as we followed our little guide, and lost sight of the village behind us, I foresaw that our stomachs would suffer unless game was plentiful on the path.

We passed through beautiful open country for about eight miles, during which we saw several herds of deer; but we could not get a shot. At length we pitched the tent, at four o'clock P.M., at the foot of 'Gunner's Coin,' a solitary rocky mountain of about two thousand feet in height, which rises precipitously from the level country. We then divided into two parties—W. and P., and V. B. and I. We strolled off with our guns in different directions.

The country was perfectly level, being a succession of glades of fine low grass divided into a thousand natural paddocks by belts of jungle.

We were afraid to stroll more than a mile from the tent, lest we should lose our way; and we took a good survey of the most prominent points of the mountain, that we might know our direction by their position.

After an hour's walk, and just as the sun was setting, a sudden crash in a jungle a few yards from us brought the rifles upon full cock. The next moment out came an elephant's head, and I knocked him over by a front shot. He had held his head in such a peculiar position that a ball could not reach the brain, and he immediately re covered himself, and, wheeling suddenly round, he retreated into the jungle, through which we could not follow.

We continued to stroll on from glade to glade, expecting to find him; and, in about a quarter of an hour, we heard the trumpet of an elephant. Fully convinced that this was the wounded animal, we pushed on towards the spot; but, on turning a corner of the jungle, we came suddenly upon a herd of seven of the largest elephants that I ever saw together; they must have been all bulls. Unfortunately, they had our wind, and, being close to the edge of a thick thorny jungle, they disappeared like magic. We gave chase for a short distance, but were soon stopped by the thorns. We had no chance with them.

It was now dusk, and we therefore hastened towards the tent, seeing three herds of deer and one of hogs on our way; but it was too dark to get a shot. The deer were barking in every direction, and the country was evidently alive with game.

On arrival at the tent, we found that W. and P. had met with no better luck than ourselves. Two of our tins of provisions were consumed at dinner, leaving us only two remaining. Not a moment was to be lost in pushing forward; and we determined upon a long march on the following day.

Nov. 25.—Sunrise saw us in the saddles. The coolies, with the tents and baggage, kept close up with the horses, being afraid to lag behind, as there was not a semblance of a path, and we depended entirely upon our small guide, who appeared to have an intimate knowledge of the whole country. The little Veddah trotted along through the winding glades; and we travelled for about five miles without a word being spoken by one of the party, as we were in hopes of coming upon deer. Unfortunately, we were travelling down wind; we accordingly did not see a single head of game, as they of course winded us long before we came in view.

We had ridden about eight miles, when we suddenly came upon the fresh tracks of elephants, and, immediately dismounting, we began to track up. The ground being very dry, and the grass short and parched, the tracks were very indistinct, and it was tedious work. We had followed for about half a mile through alternate glades and belts of jungle, when we suddenly spied a Veddah hiding behind a tree about sixty yards from us. The moment that he saw he was discovered, he set off at full speed, but two of our coolies, who acted as gunbearers, started after him. These fellows were splendid runners, and, after a fine course, they ran him down; but when caught, instead of expressing any fear, he seemed to think it a good joke. He was a rather short but stout-built fellow, and he was immediately recognised by our little guide, as one of the best hunters among the Northern Veddahs. He soon understood our object; and, putting down his bow and arrows and a little pipkin of sour curd (his sole provision on his hunting trip), he started at once upon the track.

Without any exception he was the best tracker I have ever seen: although the ground was as hard as a stone, and the footprints constantly invisible, he went like a hound upon a scent, at a pace that kept us in an occasional jog-trot. After half an hour's tracking, and doubling backward and forward in thick jungle, we came up with three elephants. V. B. killed one, and I killed another at the same moment. V. B. also fired at the third; but, instead of falling, he rushed towards us, and I killed him with my remaining barrel, Palliser joining in the shot. They were all killed in about three seconds. The remaining portion of the herd were at a distance, and we heard them crashing through the thick jungle. We followed them for about a mile, but they had evidently gone off to some other country. The jungle was very thick, and we had a long journey to accomplish; we therefore returned to the horses and rode on, our party being now increased by the Veddah tracker.

After having ridden about twenty miles, the last tight of which had been through alternate forest and jungle, we arrived at a small plain of rich grass of about a hundred acres: this was surrounded by forest. Unfortunately, the nights were not moonlight, or we could have killed a deer, as they came out in immense herds just at dusk. We luckily bagged a good supply of snipe, upon which we dined, and we reserved our tins. of meat for some more urgent occasion.

Nov. 26.—All vestiges of open country had long ceased. We now rode for seventeen miles through magnificent forest, containing the most stupendous banian trees that I have ever beheld. The ebony trees were also very numerous, and grew to an immense size. This forest was perfectly open. There was not a sign of either underwood or grass beneath the trees, and no track was discernible beyond the notches in the trees made at some former time by the Veddah's axe. In one part of this forest a rocky mountain appeared at some period to have burst into fragments; and for the distance of about a mile it formed the apparent ruins of a city of giants. Rocks as large as churches lay piled one upon the other forming long dark alleys and caves that would have housed some hundreds of men.

The effect was perfectly fairylike, as the faint silver light of the sun, mellowed by the screen of tree tops, half-lighted up, these silent caves. The giant stems of the trees sprang like tall columns from the foundations of the rocks that shadowed them with their dense foliage. Two or three families of 'Cyclops' would not have been out of place in this spot; they were just the class of people that one would expect to meet.

Late in the afternoon we arrived at the long-talked-of village of Oomanoo, about eighteen miles from our last encampment. It was a squalid, miserable place, of course, and nothing was obtainable. Our coolies had not tasted food since the preceding evening; but, by good luck, we met a travelling Moorman, who had just arrived at the village with a little rice to exchange with the Veddahs for dried venison. As the villagers did not happen to have any meat to barter, we purchased all the rice at an exorbitant price; but it was only sufficient for half a meal for each servant and coolie, when equally divided.

Fortunately, we killed four snipe and two doves these were added to our last two tins of provisions, which were 'hotch potch,' and stewed altogether. This made a good dinner. We had now nothing left but our biscuits and groceries. All our hams and preserved meats were gone, and we only had one meal on that day.

Nov. 27.—Our horses had eaten nothing but grass for many days; this, however, was excellent, and old Jack looked fat, and was as hardy as ever. We now discharged our Veddah guides, and took on others from Oomanoo. These men told us that we were only four miles from the Batticaloa road, and with great glee we started at break of day, determined to breakfast on arrival at the road.

The old adage of 'Many a slip 'twixt the cup and the lip' was here fully exemplified. Four miles! We rode twenty-five miles without drawing the rein once! and at length we then did reach the road; that is to say, a narrow track of grass, which is the track to Batticaloa for which we had been steering during our journey. A native but in this wilderness rendered the place worthy of a name; it is therefore known upon the Government maps as 'Pyeley.'

From this place we were directed on to 'Curhellulai,' a village represented to us as a small London, abounding with every luxury. We obtained a guide and started, as they assured us it was only two miles distant.

After riding three miles through a country of open glades and thick jungle, the same guide who had at first told us it was two miles from 'Pyeley,' now said it was only 'three miles farther on.' We knew these fellows' ideas of distance too well to proceed any farther. We had quitted the Batticaloa track, and we immediately dismounted, unsaddled, and turned the horses loose upon the grass.

Having had only one meal the day before, and no breakfast this morning, we looked forward with impatience to the arrival of the coolies, although I confess I did not expect them, as they were too weak from want of food to travel far. They had only half a meal the day before, and nothing at all the day before that.

We had halted in a grassy glade surrounded by thick jungle. There were numerous fresh tracks of deer and elk, but the animals themselves would not show.

As evening approached, we collected a quantity of dead timber and lighted a good fire, before which we piled the rifles, three and three, about ten feet apart. Across these we laid a pole, and then piled branches from the ground to the pole in a horizontal position. This made a shed to protect us from the dew, and, with our saddles for pillows, we all lay down together and slept soundly till morning.

Nov. 28.—We woke hungry, and accordingly tightened our belts by two or three holes. V. Baker had to be in Kandy by the evening of the 30th, and he was now determined to push on. His pony had thrown all his shoes, and had eaten nothing but grass for many days.

I knew our position well, as I had been lost near this spot about two years ago. We were fifty-three miles from Badulla. Nevertheless, V. B. started off, and arrived in Badulla that evening. On the same pony he pushed on to Newera Ellia, thirty-six miles, the next day; and then taking a fresh horse, he rode into Kandy, forty-seven miles, arriving in good time on the evening of the 30th November.

Having parted with V. B., we saddled and mounted, and, following our guide through a forest-path, we arrived at Curhellulai after a ride of four miles. Nothing could exceed the wretchedness of this place, from which we had been led to expect so much. We could not even procure a grain of rice from the few small huts which composed the village. The headman, who himself looked half-starved, made some cakes of korrakan; but as they appeared to be composed of two parts of sand, one of dirt and one of grain, I preferred a prolonged abstinence to such filth. The abject poverty of the whole of this country is beyond description.

Our coolies arrived at eight A.M., faint and tired; they no longer turned up their noses at korrakan, as they did at Monampitya, but they filled themselves almost to bursting.

I started off V. B.'s coolies after him, also eight men whose loads had been consumed, and, with a diminished party, we started for Bibille, which the natives assured us was only nineteen miles from this spot. For once they were about correct in their ideas of distance. The beautiful 'Park' country commenced about four miles from Curhellulai, and, after a lovely ride through this scenery for sixteen miles, we arrived at the luxurious and pretty village of Bibille, which had so often been my quarters.

We had ridden a hundred and forty miles from Minneria, through a country abounding with game of all kinds, sixty miles of which had never been shot over, and yet the whole bag in this lovely country consisted of only three elephants. So much for hurrying through our ground. If we had remained for a week at the foot of the Gunner's Coin we could have obtained supplies of all kinds from Doolana, and we should have enjoyed excellent sport through the whole country. Our total bag was now wretchedly small, considering the quantity of ground that we had passed over. We had killed nine elephants and two deer. V. Baker had a miserable time of it, having only killed two elephants when he was obliged to return. The trip might, in fact, be said to commence from Bibille.

This is a very pretty, civilized village, in the midst of a wild country. It is the residence of a Rhatamahatmeya, and he and his family were well known to me. They were perfectly astonished when they heard by which route we had arrived, and upon hearing of our forty-eight hours of fasting, they lost no time in preparing dinner. We were now in a land of plenty, and we shortly fell to at a glorious dinner of fowls in various shapes, curries, good coffee, rice cakes, plantains, and sweet potatoes. After our recent abstinence and poor fare, it seemed a perfect banquet. Nov. 29.—The coolies did not arrive till early this morning; they were soon hard at work at curry and rice, and, after a few hours of rest, we packed up and started for a spot in the 'Park' (upon which I had often encamped) about ten miles from Bibille.

The horses had enjoyed their paddy as much as we had relished our change of diet, and the coolies were perfectly refreshed. I sent orders to Kotoboya (about twenty miles from Bibille) for several bullock-loads of paddy and rice to meet us at an appointed spot, and with a good supply of fowls and rice, &c., for the present, we arrived at our place of encampment at three P.M., after a delightful ride.

The grass was beautifully green; a few large trees shaded the tents, which were pitched near a stream, and the undulations of the ground, interspersed with clumps of trees and ornamented by rocky mountains, formed a most lovely scene. We sent a messenger to Nielgalla for Banda, and another to Dimbooldene for old Medima and the trackers, with orders to meet us at our present encampment. We then took our rifles and strolled out to get a deer. We shortly found a herd, and Wortley got a shot at about sixty yards, and killed a doe. We could have killed other deer shortly afterwards, but we did not wish to disturb the country by firing unnecessary shots, as we had observed fresh tracks of elephants.

We carried the deer to the tent, and rejoiced our coolies with the sight of venison; the doe was soon divided among them, one haunch only being reserved for our own use.

Nov. 30.—This, being Sunday, was a day of rest for man and beast after our recent wanderings, and we patiently awaited the arrival of Banda and the trackers. The guns were all in beautiful order, and stood arranged against a temporary rack, in readiness for the anticipated sport on the following day.

Banda and the trackers arrived in the afternoon. His accounts were very favourable as to the number of elephants, and we soon laid down a plan for beating the 'Park' in a systematic manner.

Upon this arrangement the duration of sport in this country materially depends. If the shooting is conducted thoughtlessly here and there, without reference to the localities, the whole 'Park' becomes alarmed at once, and the elephants quit the open country and retire to the dense chenar jungles.

I proposed that we should commence shooting at our present encampment, then beat towards the Cave, shoot over that country towards Pattapalaar, from thence to cross the river and make a circuit of the whole of that portion of the 'Park,' and finish off in the environs of Nielgalla.

Banda approved of this plan, as we should then be driving the borders of the 'Park,' instead of commencing in the centre.

Dec. 1.—The scouts were sent out at daybreak. At two o'clock P.M. they returned: they had found elephants, but they were four miles from the tent, and two men had been left to watch them.

Upon questioning them as to their position, we discovered that they were in total ignorance of the number in the herd, as they had merely heard them roaring in the distance. They could not approach nearer, as a notoriously vicious rogue elephant was consorting with the herd. This elephant was well known to the natives from a peculiarity in having only one tusk, which was about eighteen inches long.

In November and December elephant-shooting requires more than ordinary caution at the 'Park,' as the rogue elephants, who are always bulls, are in the habit of attending upon the herds. The danger lies in their cunning. They are seldom seen in the herd itself, but they are generally within a few hundred paces; and just as the guns may have been discharged at the herd, the rogue will, perhaps, appear in full charge from his ambush. This is exquisitely dangerous, and is the manner in which I was caught near this spot in 1850.

Banda was very anxious that this rogue should be killed before we attacked the herd, and he begged me to give him a shoulder-shot with the four-ounce rifle, while Wortley and Palliser were to fire at his head! A shot through the shoulder with the heavy rifle would be certain death, although he might not drop immediately; but the object of the natives was simply to get him killed, on account of his mischievous habits.

We therefore agreed to make our first attack upon the rogue: if we should kill him on the spot, so much the better; if not, we knew that a four-ounce ball through his lungs would kill him eventually, and, at all events, he would not be in a humour to interrupt our pursuit of the herd, which we were to push for the moment we had put the rogue out of the way.

These arrangements being made, we started. After a ride of about four miles through beautiful country, we saw a man in the distance, who was beckoning to us. This was one of the watchers, who pointed to a jungle into which the elephant had that moment entered. From the extreme caution of the trackers, I could see that this rogue was worthy of his name.

The jungle into which he had entered was a long but narrow belt, about a hundred yards in width; it was tolerably good, but still it was so close that we could not see more than six paces in advance. I fully expected that he was lying in wait for us, and would charge when least expected. We therefore cautiously entered the jungle, and, sending Banda on in advance, with instructions to retreat upon the guns if charged, we followed him at about twenty paces distance.

Banda immediately untied his long hair, which fell to his hips, and divesting himself of all clothing except a cloth round his loins, he crept on in advance as stealthily as a cat. So noiselessly did he move that we presently saw him gliding back to us without a sound. He whispered that he had found the elephant, who was standing on the patina, a few yards beyond the jungle. We immediately advanced, and upon emerging from the jungle we saw him within thirty paces on our right, standing with his broadside exposed. Crack went the four-ounce through his shoulder, and the three-ounce and No. 8, with a similar good intention, into his head. Nevertheless he did not fall, but started off at a great pace, though stumbling nearly on his knees, his head and tail both hanging down, his trunk hanging listlessly upon the ground; and his ears, instead of being cocked, were pressed tightly back against his neck. He did not look much like a rogue at that moment, with upwards of half a pound of lead in his carcass. Still we could not get another shot at him before he reached a jungle about seventy paces distant; and here we stopped to load before we followed him, thinking that he was in dense chenar. This was a great mistake, for, on following him a minute later, we found the jungle was perfectly open, being merely a fringe of forest on the banks of a broad river; in crossing this we must have killed him had we not stopped to load.

On the sandy bed of this river we found the fresh tracks of several elephants, who had evidently, only just retreated, being disturbed by the shots fired; these were a portion of the herd; and the old rogue having got his quietus, we pushed on as fast as we could upon the tracks through fine open forest.

For about an hour we pressed on through forests, plains, rivers, and thick jungles alternately, till at length upon arriving on some rising ground, we heard the trumpet of an elephant.

It was fine country, but overgrown with lemon grass ten feet high. Clumps of trees were scattered here and there among numerous small dells. Exactly opposite lay several large masses of rock, shaded by a few trees, and on our left lay a small hollow of high lemon grass, bordered by jungle.

In this hollow we counted seven elephants: their heads and backs were just discernible above the grass, as we looked over them from some rising ground at about seventy yards distance. Three more elephants were among the rocks, browsing upon the long grass.

We now heard unmistakable sounds of a large number of elephants in the jungle below us, from which the seven elephants in the hollow had only just emerged, and we quietly waited for the appearance of the whole herd, this being their usual feeding-time.

One by one they majestically stalked from the jungle. We were speculating on the probable number of this large herd, when one of them suddenly winded us, and, with magical quickness, they all wheeled round and rushed back into the jungle.

Calling upon my little troop of gun-bearers to keep close up, away we dashed after them at full speed; down the steep hollow and through the high lemon grass, now trampled into lanes by the retreating elephants.

In one instant the jungle seemed alive; there were upwards of fifty elephants in the herd. The trumpets rang through the forest, the young trees and underwood crashed in all directions with an overpowering noise, as this mighty herd, bearing everything before it, crashed in one united troop through the jungle.

At the extreme end of the grassy hollow there was a snug corner formed by an angle in the jungle. A glade of fine short turf stretched for a small distance into the forest, and, as the herd seemed to be bearing down in this direction, Wortley and I posted off as hard as we could go, hoping to intercept them if they crossed the glade. We arrived there in a few moments, and taking our position on this fine level sward, about ten paces from the forest, we awaited the apparently irresistible storm that was bursting exactly upon us.

No pen, nor tongue can describe the magnificence of the scene; the tremendous roaring of the herd, mingled with the shrill screams of other elephants; the bursting stems of the broken trees; the rushing sound of the leafy branches as though a tempest were howling through them—all this concentrating with great rapidity upon the very spot upon which we were standing.

This was an exciting moment, especially to nerves unaccustomed to the sport.

The whole edge of the forest was faced with a dense network of creepers; from the highest tree-tops to the ground they formed a leafy screen like a green curtain, which clothed the forest as ivy covers the walls of a house. Behind this opaque mass the great actors in the scene were at work, and the whole body would evidently in a few seconds burst through this leafy veil and be right upon us.

On they came, the forest trembling with the onset. The leafy curtain burst into tatters; the jungle ropes and snaky stems, tearing the branches from the treetops, were in a few moments heaped in a tangled and confused ruin. One dense mass of elephants' heads, in full career, presented themselves through the shattered barrier of creepers.

Running towards them with a loud holloa, they were suddenly checked by our unexpected apparition, but the confused mass of elephants made the shooting very difficult. Two elephants rushed out to cross the little nook within four yards of me, and I killed both by a right and left shot. Wallace immediately pushed a spare rifle into my hand, just as a large elephant, meaning mischief, came straight towards me, with ears cocked, from the now staggered body of the herd. I killed her with the front shot, both barrels having gone off at once, the heavy charge of powder in the right-hand barrel having started the trigger of the left barrel by the concussion. Round wheeled the herd, leaving their three leaders dead; and now the race began.