osed, however, that Newera Ellia lies in unbroken
gloom for months together. One month generally brings a share of
uninterrupted bad weather; this is from the middle of June to the
middle of July. This is the commencement of the south-west monsoon,
which usually sets in with great violence. The remaining portion of
what is called the wet season, till the end of November, is about as
uncertain as the climate of England--some days fine, others wet, and
every now and then a week of rain at one bout.

A thoroughly saturated soil, with a cold wind, and driving rain and
forests as full of water as sponges, are certain destroyers of scent;
hence, hunting at Newera Ellia is out of the question during such
weather. The hounds would get sadly out of condition, were it not for
the fine weather in the vicinity which then invites a trip.

I have frequently walked ten miles to my hunting grounds, starting
before daybreak, and then after a good day's sport up and down the
steep mountains, I have returned home in the evening. But this is
twelve hours' work, and it is game thrown away, as there is no
possibility of getting the dead elk home. An animal that weighs between
four hundred and four hundred and fifty pounds without his insides, is
not a very easy creature to move; at any time, especially in such a
steep mountainous country as the neighborhood of Newera Ellia. As
previously described, at the base of the mountains are cultivated
rice-lands, generally known as paddy-fields, where numerous villages
have sprung up from the facility with which a supply of water is
obtained from the wild mountains above them. I have so frequently
given the people elk and hogs which I have killed on the heights above
their paddy-fields that they are always on the alert at the sound of
the bugle, and a few blasts from the mountain-top immediately creates a
race up from the villages, some two or three thousand feet below. Like
vultures scenting carrion, they know that an elk is killed, and they
start off to the well-known sound like a pack of trained hounds. Being
thorough mountaineers, they are extraordinary fellows for climbing the
steep grassy sides. With a light stick about six feet long in one
hand, they will start from the base of the mountains and clamber up the
hillsides in a surprisingly short space of time, such as would soon
take the conceit out of a "would-be pedestrian." This is owing to the
natural advantages of naked feet and no