nd forms a tangled barrier which checks both dogs and
man. With tough gaiters to guard the shins, we break through by main
force and weight, and the dogs scramble sometimes over, sometimes under
the surface. At this period the elk are in great numbers, as they feed
with great avidity upon the succulent young nillho. The dogs are now at
a disadvantage. While they are scrambling with difficulty through this
mass of half-rotten sticks, the elk bounds over it with ease, leaving no
path behind him, as he clears it by leaps, and does not exhaust himself
by bursting through it. He now constantly escapes, and leaves the pack
miles behind; the best hounds follow him, but with such a start he leads
them into the unknown depths of the jungles, over high mountains and
across deep ravines, from which the lost dogs frequently never return.

There can be no question that it is a bad country for hunting at all
times, as the mass of forest is so disproportionate to the patinas; but,
on the other hand, were the forests of smaller size there would be
less game. Elk-hunting is, on the whole, fine sport. There are many
disappointments constantly occurring, but these must happen in all
sports. The only important drawback to the pleasure of elk-hunting is
the constant loss of the dogs. The best are always sure to go. What
with deaths by boars, leopards, elk, and stray hounds, the pack is with
difficulty maintained. Puppies are constantly lost in the commencement
of their training by straying too far into the jungle, and sometimes by
reckless valour. I lost a fine young greyhound, Lancer, own brother to
Lucifer, in this way. It was his first day with the pack.

We found a buck who came to bay in a deep rocky torrent, where the dogs
had no chance with him, and he amused himself by striking them under
water at his pleasure. He at length took his stand among some large
rocks, between which the torrent rushed with great rapidity previous to
its descent over a fall of sixty feet.

In this impregnable position young Lancer chose to distinguish himself,
and with a beautiful spring he flew straight at the buck's head; but the
elk met him with a tremendous blow with the fore feet, which broke his
back, and the unfortunate Lancer was killed in his first essay and swept
over the waterfall. This buck was at bay for two hours before he was
killed.

A veteran seizer is generally seamed with innumerable scars. Poor old
Bran, who, being a thoroughbred grey