peculiarities, and are rarely frightened when coming near them. Their keenness in tracking is wonderful; they will follow an elephant, and make out his track, over the bare rock, and tell you pretty accurately how long it is since he passed. If you have a good number of these jungle men, and elephants are plentiful, the best way is to give them orders the night before to make arrangements among themselves for starting at or before daylight, two and two, to look for elephants. They generally know what parts of the forest they are to be found in, at that time; and when any one of these parties finds an elephant, one of the men immediately gets up a high tree to watch him, and the other returns to give the kubr, or news. Some hour, say ten o'clock, should be named, at which the parties are to return to camp. I need scarcely say that you should be always ready with your guncarriers, to start directly the news is brought. In a bamboo jungle, elephants are heard at a great distance pulling it down to feed on. They may also be heard trumpeting, if the wind is blowing to you, nearly a mile off. This, with the large track, would make it appear a sort of shikar easily carried on; but you will find that even to an experienced sportsman it is quite the reverse: and owing to the denseness of the underwood of the forest, to the poisonous leeches, and to the hilly country in which these animals are most commonly found, this peculiar kind of shikar is one of the most fatiguing you can pursue. The jungles they frequent are invariably very unhealthy at all seasons of the year, except for about two and a half months, say from the 20th of June to the 5th of September, that is, from the time when the first heavy rains have well washed out all the dead leaves and malaria, until the time when the rains are about to cease. It is a strange fact this, the cessation of malaria during the time mentioned, in the Wynaud and other southern jungles. I need scarcely, however, point out the disadvantages the sportsman contends against at this season; liable to be drenched to the skin while out shooting, his tent and everything about him in a very damp and uncomfortable state; and the great risk that he runs from his guns hanging fire, or not going off at all. But what can quench the love of shikar in the heart of the man once imbued with it? That which others consider infatuation and a folly, is to him the breath of life: "That for itself can woo the approaching fight, And turn what some deem danger to delight!" not the fight against our fellow-man and brother, but against the wild beasts of the forest, which God has ordered us to destroy. Another, and the more common way of following the sport, especially if you cannot procure a number of jungle trackers, is to get up at daylight, take your own breakfast, and make your shikarees eat theirs before starting; then taking with you a biscuit or sandwich, and your chagul or leather water-goblet, and your flask of wine or brandy, to start for the day. You take a direction which will bring you across the usual runs of elephants who may be going from one feeding-ground to another. When you come on a moderately fresh track, you put on your best trackers, and follow at the best pace you can. I need scarcely tell you that if the elephant is also travelling, you may go in this track for fifteen or twenty miles, without ever seeing the animal. This distance you have to retrace, unless, from knowledge of the localities, you may be able to shorten your backward journey. Day after day have I run elephants' tracks in this way. Sometimes the animals themselves are only a short distance ahead, which you can tell not only by the freshness of the troddendown grass, but by their droppings, or by the mud marks against the sides of the forest tree, where they have rubbed themselves; then by the crushing of the bamboos; then by a shriek, which sends your heart into your mouth; then by the disappearance of a great brute's quarters, through the clump of bamboos just in front of you; and at length by the flash of a pair of ivories, which brings you to the pitch of excitement. Now keep cool, if you can. Look at your own rifle's caps, and at those of your gun-carriers; and if the jungle will permit of it, and the wind (which is of the utmost consequence) blows away from them towards you, get round, by making a détour to the leeward side of the animals, and post yourself quickly behind a tree in the path which a fine tusker is apparently about to take. All now depends upon your shooting. Let the elephant come up to within fifteen paces of you, and be sure that you see the deadly spot over the eye. Then between that and the upper part of the ear, according to the distance and the evenness or otherwise of the ground, aim for the brain. These side shots are more certain, I think, than the front one, and they are more likely to be presented to you when standing behind a tree. If the animal stops, with his head so placed as not to present itself for a good shot, make a slight noise with your foot, or let your shikaree do so behind you, and keep your rifle ready to your shoulder. The elephant will suddenly turn his head to the sound, and you ought to bag him for certain. Any sound, such as a slight cough or cluck with the mouth, will answer as well. Smooth bores are preferred to rifles by many for this sport. I always preferred the rifle. For if the bullet is not too tight, and the cloth is greased, there is no difficulty in loading. I have my rifle bullet sewn in the cloth, for facility in loading. I must now finish my account of elephant-shooting |