hound, is too fine in the skin for
such rough hunting, has been sewn up in so many places that he is a
complete specimen of needlework. If any dog is hurt in a fight with elk
or boar, it is sure to be old Bran. He has now a scar from a wound that
was seven inches in length, which he received from a buck whose horns
are hanging over my door.

I had started with the pack at daybreak, and I was riding down the
Badulla road, about a mile from the kennel, when the whole pack suddenly
took up a scent off the road, and dashed into the jungle in full cry.
The road was enclosed by forest on either side. The pack had evidently
divided upon two elk, as they were running in different directions.

Starting off down the pass, I soon reached the steep patinas, and I
heard the pack coming down through the jungle which crowns the hills on
the left of the road. There was a crush in the underwood, and the
next moment a fine buck broke cover and went away along the hillside.
Merriman and Tiptoe were the two leading dogs, and they were not fifty
yards behind him. Old smut came tearing along after them, and I gave
Bran a holloa and slipped him immediately. It was a beautiful sight
to see Bran fly along the patina: across the swampy bottom, taking
the broad stream in one bound, and skimming up the hill, he was on the
buck's path in a few minutes, pulling up to him at every stride. He
passed the few dogs that were in chase like lightning, and in a few more
bounds he was at the buck's side. With a dexterous blow, however, the
buck struck him with his fore foot, and sent him rolling down the hill
with a frightful gash in his side. The buck immediately descended the
hillside, and came to bay in a deep pool in the river. Regardless of his
wound, old Bran followed him; Smut and the other dogs joined, and there
was a fine bay, the buck fighting like a hero. The dogs could not touch
him, as he was particularly active with his antlers.

I jumped into the water and gave them a cheer, on which the buck
answered immediately by charging at me. I met him with the point of my
hunting-knife in the nose, which stopped him, and in the same moment old
Smut was hanging on his ear, having pinned him the instant that I had
occupied his attention. Bran had the other ear just as I had given him
the fatal thrust. In a few seconds the struggle was over. Bran's wound
was four inches wide and seven inches long.

My brother had a pretty run with the doe with the other