Eight Years' Wanderings in Ceylon

This road, on completion, answered every expectation, connecting the two sides of the Hog's Back by an excellent path of about two miles, and débouching on the opposite side on a high patina peak which commanded the whole country. Thus was the whole country opened up by this single path, and should an elk play his old trick and be off across the Hog's Back to Fort M'Donald river, I could be there nearly as soon as he could, and also keep within hearing of the bounds throughout the run.

I was determined to take the tent and regularly hunt up the whole country on the other side of the Hog's Back, as the weather was very bad at Newera Ellia, while in this spot it was beautifully fine, although very windy.

I therefore sent on the tent, kennel-troughs and pots, and all the paraphernalia indispensable for the jungle, and on the 31st May, 1852, I started, having two companions—Capt. Pelly, Thirty-seventh Regiment, who was then commandant of Newera Ellia, and his brother on a visit. It was not more than an hour and a half's good walking from my house to the high patina peak upon which I pitched the tent, but the country and climate are so totally distinct from anything at Newera Ellia that it gives every one the idea of being fifty miles away.

We hewed out a spacious arbor at the edge of the jungle, and in this I had the tent pitched to protect it from the wind, which it did effectually, as well as the kennel, which was near the same spot. The servants made a good kitchen, and the encampment was soon complete.

There never could have been a more romantic or beautiful spot for a bivouac. To the right lay the distant view of the low country, stretching into an undefined distance, until the land and sky appeared to melt together. Below, at a depth of about three thousand feet, the river boiled through the rocky gorge until it reached the village of Peréwellé at the base of the line of mountains, whose cultivated paddy-fields looked no larger than the squares upon a chess-board. On the opposite side of the river rose a precipitous and impassable mountain, even to a greater altitude than the facing ridge upon which I stood, forming as grand a foreground as the eye could desire. Above, below, around, there was the bellowing sound of heavy cataracts echoed upon all sides.

Certainly this country is very magnificent, but it is an awful locality for hunting, as the elk has too great an advantage over both hounds and hunters. Mountainous patinas of the steepest inclination, broken here and there by abrupt precipices, and with occasional level platforms of waving grass, descend to the river's bed. These patina mountains are crowned by extensive forests, and narrow belts of jungle descend from the summit to the base, clothing the numerous ravines which furrow the mountain's side. Thus the entire surface of the mountains forms a series of rugged grasslands, so steep as to be ascended with the greatest difficulty, and the elk lie in the forests on the summits and also in the narrow belts which cover the ravines.

The whole country forms a gorge, like a gigantic letter V. At the bottom roars the dreaded torrent, Fort M'Donald river, in a succession of foaming cataracts, all of which, however grand individually, are completely eclipsed by its last great plunge of three hundred feet perpendicular depth into a dark and narrow chasm of wall-bound cliffs.

The bed of the river is the most frightful place that can be conceived, being choked by enormous fragments of rock, amidst which the irresistible torrent howls with a fury that it is impossible to describe.

The river is confined on either side by rugged cliffs of gneiss rock, from which these fragments have from time to time become detached, and have accordingly fallen into the torrent, choking the bed and throwing the obstructed waters into frightful commotion. Here they lie piled one upon the other, like so many inverted cottages; here and there forming dripping caverns; now forming walls of slippery rock, over which the water falls in thundering volumes into pools black from their mysterious depth, and from which there is no visible means of exit. These dark and dangerous pools are walled in by hoary-looking rocks, beneath which the pent-up water dives and boils in subterranean caverns, until it at length escapes through secret channels, and reappears on the opposite side of its prison-walls; lashing itself into foam in its mad frenzy, it forms rapids of giddy velocity through the rocky bounds; now flying through a narrowed gorge, and leaping, striving and wrestling with unnumbered obstructions, it at length meets with the mighty fall, like death in a madman's course. One plunge! without a single shelf to break the fall, and down, down it sheets; at first like glass, then like the broken avalanche of snow, and lastly!—we cannot see more—the mist boils from the ruin of shattered waters and conceals the bottom of the fall. The roar vibrates like thunder in the rocky mountain, and forces the grandeur of the scene through every nerve.

No animal or man, once in those mysterious pools, could ever escape without assistance. Thus in years post, when elk were not followed up in this locality, the poor beast, being hard pressed by the hounds, might have come to bay in one of these fatal basins, in which case, both he and every bound who entered the trap found sure destruction.

The hard work and the danger to both man and bound in this country may be easily imagined when it is explained that the nature of the elk prompts him to seek for water as his place of refuge when hunted; thus he makes off down the mountain for the river, in which he stands at bay. Now the mountain itself is steep enough, but within a short distance of the bottom the river is in many places guarded by precipices of several hundred feet in depth. A few difficult passes alone give access to the torrent, but the descent requires great caution.

Altogether, this forms the wildest and most arduous country that can be imagined for hunting, but it abounds with elk.

The morning was barely gray when I woke up the servants and ordered coffee, and made the usual preparations for a start. At last, thank goodness! the boots are laced! This is the troublesome part of dressing before broad daylight, and nevertheless laced ankle-boots must be worn as a protection against sprains and bruises in such a country. Never mind the trouble of lacing them; they, are on now, and there is a good day's work in store for them.

It was the 30th May, 1853, a lovely hunting morning and a fine dew on the patinas; rather too windy, but that could not be helped.

Quiet now!—down, Bluebeard!—back, will you, Lucifer! Here's a smash! there goes the jungle kennel! the pack squeezing out of it in every direction as they hear the preparations for departure.

Now we are all right; ten couple out, and all good ones. Come along, yo-o-i, along here! and a note on the horn brings the pack close together as we enter the forest on the very summit of the ridge. Thus the start was completed just as the first tinge of gold spread along the eastern horizon, about ten minutes before sunrise.

The jungles were tolerably good, but there were not as many elk tracks as I had expected; probably the high wind on the ridge had driven them lower down for shelter; accordingly I struck an oblique direction downward, and I was not long before I discovered a fresh track; fresh enough, certainly, as the thick moss which covered the ground showed a distinct path where the animal had been recently feeding.

Every hound had stolen away; even the greyhounds buried their noses in the broad track of the buck, so fresh was the scent; and I waited quietly for "the find." The greyhounds stood round me with their cars cocked and glistening eyes, intently listening for the expected sound.

There they are! all together, such a burst! They must have stolen away mute and have found on the other side the ridge, for they were now coming down at full speed from the very summit of the mountain.

From the amount of music I knew they had a good start, but I had no idea that the buck would stand to such a pack at the very commencement of the hunt. Nevertheless there was a sudden bay within a few hundred yards of me, and the elk had already turned to fight. I knew that he was an immense fellow from his track, and I at once saw that he would show fine sport.

Just as I was running through the jungle toward the spot, the bay broke and the buck had evidently gone off straight away, as I heard the pack in full cry rapidly increasing their distance and going off down the mountain.

Sharp following was now the order of the day, and away we went. The mountain was so steep that it was necessary every now and then to check the momentum of a rapid descent by clinging to the tough saplings. Sometimes one would give way and a considerable spill would be the consequence. However, I soon got out on the patina about one-third of the way down the mountain, and here I met one of the natives, who was well posted. Not a sound of the pack was now to be heard; but this man declared most positively that the elk had suddenly changed his course, and, instead of keeping down the hill, had struck off to his left along the side of the mountain. Accordingly, off I started as hard as I could go with several natives, who all agreed as to the direction.

After running for about a mile along the patinas in the line which I judged the pack had taken, I heard one hound at bay in a narrow jungle high up on my left. It was only the halt of an instant, for the next moment I heard the same hound's voice evidently running on the other side of the strip of jungle, and taking off down the mountain straight for the dreaded river. Here was a day's work cut out as neatly as could be.

Running toward the spot, I found the buck's track leading in that direction, and I gave two or three view halloos at the top of my voice to bring the rest of the pack down upon it. They were close at hand, but the high wind had prevented me from hearing them, and away they came from the jungle, rushing down upon the scent like a flock of birds. I stepped of the track to let them pass as they swept by, and "For-r-r-a-r-d to him! For-r—r-ard!" was the word the moment they had passed, as I gave them a halloo down the hill. It was a bad look-out for the elk now; every hound knew that his master was close up, and they went like demons.

The "Tamby"3 was the only man up, and he and I immediately followed in chase down the precipitous patinas; running when we could, scrambling, and sliding on our hams when it was too steep to stand, and keeping good hold of the long tufts of grass, lest we should gain too great an impetus and slide to the bottom.

After about half a mile passed in this manner, I heard the bay, and I saw the buck far beneath, standing upon a level, grassy platform, within three hundred yards of the river. The whole pack was around him except the greyhounds, who were with me; but not a hound had a chance with him, and he repeatedly charged in among them, and regularly drove them before him, sending any single hound spinning whenever he came within his range. But the pack quickly reunited, and always returned with fresh vigor to the attack. There was a narrow, wooded ravine between me and them, and, with caution and speed combined, I made toward the spot down the precipitous mountain, followed by the greyhounds "Bran" and "Lucifer."

I soon arrived on a level with the bay, and, plunging into the ravine, I swung myself down from tree to tree, and then climbed up the opposite side. I broke cover within a few yards of him. What a splendid fellow he looked! He was about thirteen hands high, and carried the most beautiful head of horns that I had ever seen upon an elk. His mane was bristled up, his nostril was distended, and, turning from the pack, he surveyed me, as though taking the measure of his new antagonist. Not seeming satisfied, he deliberately turned, and, descending from the level space, he carefully, picked his way. Down narrow elk-runs along the steep precipices, and, at a slow walk, with the whole pack in single file at his heels, he clambered down toward the river. I followed on his track over places which I would not pass in cold blood; and I shortly halted above a cataract of some eighty feet in depth, about a hundred paces from the great waterfall of three hundred feet.

It was extremely grand; the roar of the falls so entirely hushed all other sounds that the voices of the hounds were perfectly inaudible, although within a few yards of me, as I looked down upon them from a rock that overhung the river.

The elk stood upon the brink of the swollen torrent; he could not retreat, as the wall of rock was behind him, with the small step-like path by which he had descended; this was now occupied by the yelling pack.

The hounds knew the danger of the place; but the buck, accustomed to these haunts from his birth, suddenly leapt across the boiling rapids, and springing from rock to rock along the verge of the cataract, he gained the opposite side. Here he had mistaken his landing-place, as a shelving rock, upon which he had alighted, was so steep that he could not retain his footing, and he gradually slid down toward the river.

At this moment, to my horror, both "Bran" and "Lucifer" dashed across the torrent, and bounding from rock to rock, they sprung at the already tottering elk, and in another moment both he and they rolled over in a confused mass into the boiling torrent. One more instant and they reappeared, the buck gallantly stemming the current, which his great length of limb and weight enabled him to do; the dogs, overwhelmed in the foam of the rapids, were swept down toward the fall, in spite of their frantic exertions to gain the bank.

They were not fifteen feet from the edge of the fall, and I saw them spun round and round in the whirlpools being hurried toward certain destruction. The poor dogs seemed aware of the danger, and made the most extraordinary efforts to avoid their fate. They were my two favorites of the pack, and I screamed out words of encouragement to them, although the voice of a cannon could not have been heard among the roar of waters. They had nearly gained the bank oil the very ver-e of the fall, when a few tufts of lemon grass concealed them from my view. I thought they were over, and I could not restrain a cry of despair at their horrible fate. I felt sick with the idea. But the next moment I was shouting hurrah! they are all right, thank goodness, they were saved. I saw them struggling up the steep bank, through the same lemon grass, which had for a moment obscured their fate. They were thoroughly exhausted and half drowned.

In the mean time, the elk had manfully breasted the rapids, carefully choosing the shallow places; and the whole pack, being mad with excitement, had plunged into the waters regardless of the danger. I thought every hound would have been lost. For an instant they looked like a flock of ducks, but a few moments afterward they were scattered in the boiling eddies, hurrying with fatal speed toward the dreadful cataract. Poor "Phrenzy!" round she spun in the giddy vortex; nearer and nearer she approached the verge—her struggles were unavailing—over she went, and was of course never heard of afterward.

This was a terrible style of hunting; rather too much so to be pleasant. I clambered down to the edge of the river just in time to see the elk climbing, as nimbly as a cat up the precipitous bank on the opposite side, threading his way at a slow walk under the overhanging rocks, and scrambling up the steep mountain with a long string of hounds at his heels in single file. "Valiant," "Tiptoe" and "Ploughboy" were close to him, and I counted the other hounds in the line, fully expecting to miss half of them. To my surprise and delight, only one was absent; this was poor "Phrenzy." The others had all managed to save themselves. I now crossed the river by leaping from rock to rock with some difficulty, and with hands and knees I climbed the opposite bank. This was about sixty feet high, from the top of which the mountain commenced its ascent, which, though very precipitous was so covered with long lemon grass that it was easy enough to climb. I looked behind me, and there was the Tamby, all right, within a few paces.

The elk was no longer in sight, and the roar of the water was so great that it was impossible to hear the hounds. However, I determined to crawl along his track, which was plainly discernible, the high grass being broken into a regular lane which skirted the precipice of the great waterfall in the direction of the villages.

We were now about a hundred feet above, and on one side of the great fall, looking into the deep chasm into which the river leapt, forming a cloud of mist below. The lemon grass was so high in tufts along the rocks that we could not see a foot before us, and we knew not whether the next step would land us on firm footing, or deposit us some hundred feet below. Clutching fast to the long grass, therefore, we crept carefully on for about a quarter of a mile, now climbing the face of the rocks, now descending by means of their irregular surfaces, but still stirring the dark gorge down which the river fell.

At length, having left the fall some considerable distance behind us, the ear was somewhat relieved from the bewildering noise of water, and I distinctly heard the pack at bay not very far in advance. In another moment I saw the elk standing on a platform of rock about a hundred yards ahead, on a lower shelf of the mountain, and the whole pack at bay. This platform was the top of a cliff which overhung the deep gorge; the river flowing in the bottom after its great fall, and both the elk and hounds appeared to be in "a fix." The descent had been made to this point by leaping down places which he could not possibly reascend, and there was only one narrow outlet, which was covered by the hounds. Should he charge through the hounds to force this passage, half a dozen of them must be knocked over the precipice.

However, I carefully descended, and soon reached the platform. This was not more than twenty feet square, and it looked down in the gorge of about three hundred feet. The first seventy of this depth were perpendicular, as the top of the rock overhung, after which the side of the cliff was marked by great fissures and natural steps formed by the detachment from time to time of masses of rock which had fallen into the river below. Bushes and rank grass filled the interstices of the rocks, and an old deserted water-course lay exactly beneath the platform, being cut and built out of the side of the cliff.

It was a magnificent sight in such grand scenery to see the buck at bay when we arrived upon the platform. He was a dare-devil fellow, and feared neither hounds nor man, every now and then charging through the pack, and coming almost within reach of the Tamby's spear. It was a difficult thing to know how to kill him. I was afraid to go in at him, lest in his struggles he should drag the hounds over the precipice, and I would not cheer the seizers on for the same reason. Indeed, they seemed well aware of the danger, and every now and then retreated to me, as though to entice the elk to make a move to some better ground.

However, the buck very soon decided the question. I made up my mind to halloo the hounds on, and to hamstring the elk, to prevent him from nearing the precipice: and, giving a shout, the pack rushed at him. Not a dog could touch him; he was too quick with his horns and fore feet. He made a dash into the pack, and then regained his position close to the verge of the precipice. He then turned his back to the hounds, looked down over the edge, and, to the astonishment of all, plunged into the abyss below! A dull crash sounded from beneath, and then nothing was heard but the roaring of the waters as before. The hounds looked over the edge and yelled with a mixture of fear and despair. Their game was gone!

By making a circuit of about half a mile among these frightful precipices and gorges, we at length arrived at the foot of the cliff down which the buck had leapt. Here we of course found him lying dead, as he had broken most of his bones. He was in very fine condition; but it was impossible to move him from such a spot. I therefore cut off his head, as his antlers were the finest that I have ever killed before or since.

To regain the tent, I had a pull for it, having to descend into the village of Peréwellé, and then to reascend the opposite mountain of three thousand feet; but even this I thought preferable to returning in cold blood by the dangerous route I had come.

Tugging up such a mountain was no fun after a hard morning's work, and I resolved to move the encampment to a large cave, some eight hundred feet lower down the mountain. Accordingly, I struck the tent, and after breakfast we took up our quarters in a cavern worthy of Robin Hood. This had been formed by a couple of large rocks the size of a moderate house, which had been detached from the overhanging cliff above, and had fallen together. There was a smaller cavern within, which made a capital kennel; rather more substantial than the rickety building of yesterday.

Some of the village people, hearing that the buck was killed and lying in the old water-course, went in a gang to cut him up. What was their surprise on reaching the spot to find the carcase removed! It had evidently been dragged along the water-course, as the trail was distinct in the high grass, and upon following it up, away went two fine leopards, bounding along the rocks to their adjacent cave. They had consumed a large portion of the flesh, but the villagers did not leave them much for another meal. Skin, hoofs, and in fact every vestige of an elk, is consumed by these people.

For my own part, I do not think much of elk venison, unless it be very fit, which is rarely the case. It is at all times more like beef than any other meat, for which it is a very good substitute. The marrow-bones are the "bonne bouche," being peculiarly rich and delicate. Few animals can have a larger proportion of marrow than the elk, as the bones are more hollow than those of most quadrupeds. This cylindrical formation enables them to sustain the severe shocks in descending rough mountains at full speed. It is perfectly wonderful to see an animal of near six hundred pounds' weight bounding down a hillside, over rocks and ruts and every conceivable difficulty of ground, at a pace which will completely distance the best hound; and even at this desperate speed, the elk will never make a false step; sure-footed as a goat, he will still fly on through bogs, ravines, tangled jungles and rocky rivers, ever certain of his footing.

The foregoing description of an elk-hunt will give the reader a good idea of the power of this animal in stemming rapids and climbing dangerous precipices; but even an elk is not proof against the dangers of Fort M'Donald river, an example of which we had on the following morning.

The hounds found a doe who broke cover close to me in a small patina and made straight running for the river. She had no sooner reached it than I beard her cry out, and as she was closely followed I thought she was seized. However, the whole pack shortly returned, evidently thrown out, and I began to abuse them pretty roundly, thinking that they had lost their game in the river. So they had, but in an excusable manner; the poor doe had been washed down a rapid, and had broken her thigh. We found her dead under a hollow rock in the middle of the river.

Here we had a fine exemplification of the danger of the mysterious pools.

While I was opening the elk, with the pack all round me licking their lips in expectation, old "Madcap" was jostled by one of the greyhounds, and slipped into a basin among the rocks, which formed an edge of about two feet above the surface.

The opposite side of the pool was hemmed in by rocks about six feet high, and the direction of the under-current was at once shown by poor old "Madcap" being swept up against this high wall of rock, where she remained paddling with all her might in an upright position.

I saw the poor beast would be sucked under, and yet I could not save her. However, I did my best at the risk of falling in myself.

I took off my handkerchief and made a slip-knot, and begging Pelly to lie down on the top of the rock, I took his hand while I clung to the face of the wall as I best could by a little ledge of about two inches' width.

With great difficulty I succeeded in hooking the bitch's head in the slip-knot, but in my awkward position I could not use sufficient strength to draw her out. I could only support her head above the water, which I could distinctly feel was drawing her from me. Presently she gave a convulsive struggle, which freed her head from the loop, and in an instant she disappeared.