rs to join the
commander-in-chief, I took it upon myself to remain and assist the
Americans in hunting down if possible the murderers of their comrade.

I confess I was made more zealous in the cause from hearing that there
were 'lots of big game on the hills.' I invited two or three of these
American missionaries to join my mess, and off we went to look for the
murderers. As this is a chapter on shooting, I will as briefly as
possible state what we did in the official way. In the first place we
anchored at the head of the Gulf of Ayas, near a large town where
resided the chief authority of the neighbourhood in which the murder had
been committed. I landed with the missionaries, several of my officers,
and some marines to act as an escort, and paid an official visit to this
gentleman, who was called the caimakam, or chief magistrate. This great
man told us that we should certainly with his assistance find the people
we were after. He suggested that we should accompany him with a small
body of our men, to which he could add some of his zeptiehs: that thus
accompanied he would go to a place on the hill where we should find
what we wanted. He said that a little 'backsheesh' was necessary. This
latter we found, and the next day we started.

We ascended amongst the most magnificent wooded hills I ever saw. 'Such
places for game!' thought I, till at last we halted at a clump of
splendid oak trees. Under one of these a grand luncheon was spread, of
which we were all invited to partake. During the luncheon a man rushed
up to our host and whispered in his ear something which seemed to give
him great satisfaction, for he at once smilingly said, 'Captain, I have
found the men you are after;' and sure enough we saw approaching two
ruffianly looking fellows, tied together, and being dragged along by men
on horseback. I hope they were the right men. I will presume that they
were, but they had been very quick in catching them. After my missionary
friend who spoke their language had interrogated the prisoners, he
requested that they might be kept apart, which was done, and they were
given in charge of separate sentinels, to whose horses they were tied.
We then returned to our lunch, our pipes, and our coffee. Suddenly we
heard a pistol shot, a rush, and a scream from the neighbourhood of the
prisoners. It seems that one of them had drawn the pistol from his
guardian's belt, shot him dead, jumped on to the horse, and galloped
off. Ever