the certainty of instinct; and hence their services are
eagerly sought by the European sportsmen who go down into their country
in search of game. So keen is their glance, that like hounds running
"breast high" they will follow the course of an elephant, almost at the
top of their speed, over glades covered with stunted grass, where the
eye of a stranger would fail to discover a trace of its passage, and on
through forests strewn with dry leaves, where it seems impossible to
perceive a footstep. Here they are guided by a bent or broken twig, or
by a leaf dropped from the animal's mouth, on which the pressure of a
tooth may be detected. If at fault, they fetch a circuit like a setter,
till lighting on some fresh marks, they go a-head again with renewed
vigour. So delicate is the sense of smell in the elephant, and so
indispensable is it to go against the wind in approaching him, that on
those occasions when the wind is so still that its direction cannot be
otherwise discerned, the Panickeas will suspend the film of a gossamer
to determine it and shape their course accordingly.

They are enabled by the inspection of the footmarks, when impressed in
soft clay, to describe the size as well as the number of a herd before
it is seen; the height of an elephant at the shoulder being as nearly as
possible twice the circumference of his fore foot.[1]

On overtaking the game their courage is as conspicuous as their
sagacity. If they have confidence in the sportsman for whom they are
finding, they will advance to the very heel of the elephant, slap him on
the quarter, and convert his timidity into anger, till he turns upon his
tormentor and exposes his front to receive the bullet which is awaiting
him.[2]

[Footnote 1: Previous to the death of the female elephant in the
Zoological Gardens, in the Regent's Park, in 1851, Mr. MITCHELL, the
Secretary, caused measurements to be accurately made, and found the
statement of the Singhalese hunters to be strictly correct, the height
at the shoulders being precisely twice the circumference of the fore
foot.]

[Footnote 2: Major SKINNER, the Chief Officer at the head of the
Commission of Roads, in Ceylon, in writing to me, mentions an anecdote
illustrative of the daring of the Panickeas. "I once saw," he says, "a
very beautiful example of the confidence with which these fellows, from
their knowledge of the elephants, meet their worst defiance. It was in
Neuera-Kalawa; I was bivouacking o