should be trained to this sport from a puppy, and his
natural sagacity soon teaches him not to open unless upon a hot scent,
or about two hundred yards from his game; thus the elk is not disturbed
until the hound is at full speed upon his scent, and he seldom gets a
long start. Fifteen couple of such hounds in full cry put him at his
best pace, which is always tried to the uttermost by a couple or two of
fast and pitiless lurchers who run ahead of the pack, the object
being to press him at first starting, so as to blow him at the very
commencement: this is easily effected, as he is full of food, and it is
his nature always to take off straight UP the hill when first disturbed.
When blown he strikes down hill, and makes at great speed for the
largest and deepest stream; in this he turns to bay, and tries the
mettle of the finest hounds.

The great enemy to a pack is the leopard. He pounces from the branch of
a tree upon a stray hound, and soon finishes him, unless of great size
and courage, in which case the cowardly brute is soon beaten off. This
forms another reason for the choice of large hounds.

The next sport is 'deer-coursing.' This is one of the most delightful
kinds of sport in Ceylon. The game is the axis or spotted deer, and the
open plains in many parts of the low country afford splendid ground for
both greyhound and horse.

The buck is about 250 pounds live weight, of wonderful speed and great
courage, armed with long and graceful antlers as sharp as needles. He
will suddenly turn to bay upon the hard ground, and charge his pursuers,
and is more dangerous to the greyhounds than the elk, from his wonderful
activity, and from the fact that he is coursed by only a pair of
greyhounds, instead of being hunted by a pack.

Pure greyhounds of great size and courage are best adapted for this
sport. They cannot afford to lose speed by a cross with slower hounds.

CHAPTER II.

Newera Ellia--The Turn-out for Elk-Hunting--Elk-Hunting--Elk turned to
Bay--The Boar.

Where shall I begin? This is a momentous question, when, upon glancing
back upon past years, a thousand incidents jostle each other for
precedence. How shall I describe them? This, again, is easier asked than
answered. A journal is a dry description, mingling the uninteresting
with the brightest moments of sport. No, I will not write a journal; it
would be endless and boring. I shall begin with the present as it is,
and call up the past as I think p