The Rifle and Hound in Ceylon [50]
required our united strength to tear off his skin, which shone with a variety of passing colours. On losing his hide he tore away from the stakes; and although his head was shivered to atoms, and he had lost three feet of his length of neck by the ball having cut through this part, which separated in tearing off the skin, still he lashed out and writhed in frightful convulsions, which continued until I left him, bearing as my trophy his scaly hide. These boas will kill deer, and by crushing them into a sort of sausage they are enabled by degrees to swallow them. There are many of these reptiles in Ceylon; but they are seldom seen, as they generally wander forth at night. There are marvellous stories of their size, and my men assured me that they had seen much larger than the snake now mentioned; to me he appeared a horrible monster.
I do not know anything so disgusting as a snake. There is an instinctive feeling that the arch enemy is personified when these wretches glide by you, and the blood chills with horror. I took the dried skin of this fellow to England; it measures twelve feet in its dry state, minus the piece that was broken from his neck, making him the length before mentioned of fifteen feet.
I have often been astonished that comparatively so few accidents happen in Ceylon from snake-bites; their immense number and the close nature of the country making it a dangerous risk to the naked feet of the natives. I was once lying upon a sofa in a rest-house at Kandellai, when I saw a snake about four feet long glide in at the open door, and, as though accustomed to a particular spot for his lodging, he at once climbed upon another sofa and coiled himself under the pillow. My brother had only just risen from this sofa, and was sitting at the table watching the movements of his uninvited bedfellow. I soon poked him out with a stick, and cut off his head with a hunting-knife. This snake was of a very poisonous description, and was evidently accustomed to lodge behind the pillow, upon which the unwary sleeper might have received a fatal bite. Upon taking possession of an unfrequented rest-house, the cushions of the sofas and bedsteads should always be examined, as they are great attractions to snakes, scorpions, centipedes, and all manner of reptiles.
CHAPTER VII
Capabilities of Ceylon--Deer at Illepecadewe--Sagacity of a Pariah Dog--Two Deer at One Shot--Deer-stalking--Hambantotte Country--Kattregam Festival--Sitrawelle--Ruins of Ancient Mahagam-- Wiharewelle--A Night Attack upon Elephants--Shooting by Moonlight--Yalle River--Another Rogue--A Stroll before Breakfast-- A Curious Shot--A Good Day's Sport.
There are few countries which present a more lovely appearance than Ceylon. There is a diversity in the scenery which refreshes the eye; and although the evergreen appearance might appear monotonous to some persons, still, were they residents, they would observe that the colour of the foliage is undergoing a constant change by the varying tints of the leaves in the different stages of their growth. These tints are far more lovely than the autumnal shades of England, and their brilliancy is enhanced by the idea that it is the bursting of the young leaf into life, the freshness of youth instead of the sere leaf of a past summer, which, after gilding for a few days the beauty of the woods, drops from frozen branches and deserts them. Every shade of colour is seen in the Ceylon forests, as the young leaves are constantly replacing those which have fallen without being missed. The deepest crimson, the brightest yellow and green of every shade, combine to form a beautiful crest to the forest-covered surface of the island.
There is no doubt, however, that there is too much wood in Ceylon; it prevents the free circulation of air, and promotes dampness, malaria, and consequently fevers and dysentery, the latter disease being the scourge of the colony. The low country is accordingly decidedly unhealthy.
This vast amount of forest and jungle is a great impediment to the enjoyment of travelling. The heat
I do not know anything so disgusting as a snake. There is an instinctive feeling that the arch enemy is personified when these wretches glide by you, and the blood chills with horror. I took the dried skin of this fellow to England; it measures twelve feet in its dry state, minus the piece that was broken from his neck, making him the length before mentioned of fifteen feet.
I have often been astonished that comparatively so few accidents happen in Ceylon from snake-bites; their immense number and the close nature of the country making it a dangerous risk to the naked feet of the natives. I was once lying upon a sofa in a rest-house at Kandellai, when I saw a snake about four feet long glide in at the open door, and, as though accustomed to a particular spot for his lodging, he at once climbed upon another sofa and coiled himself under the pillow. My brother had only just risen from this sofa, and was sitting at the table watching the movements of his uninvited bedfellow. I soon poked him out with a stick, and cut off his head with a hunting-knife. This snake was of a very poisonous description, and was evidently accustomed to lodge behind the pillow, upon which the unwary sleeper might have received a fatal bite. Upon taking possession of an unfrequented rest-house, the cushions of the sofas and bedsteads should always be examined, as they are great attractions to snakes, scorpions, centipedes, and all manner of reptiles.
CHAPTER VII
Capabilities of Ceylon--Deer at Illepecadewe--Sagacity of a Pariah Dog--Two Deer at One Shot--Deer-stalking--Hambantotte Country--Kattregam Festival--Sitrawelle--Ruins of Ancient Mahagam-- Wiharewelle--A Night Attack upon Elephants--Shooting by Moonlight--Yalle River--Another Rogue--A Stroll before Breakfast-- A Curious Shot--A Good Day's Sport.
There are few countries which present a more lovely appearance than Ceylon. There is a diversity in the scenery which refreshes the eye; and although the evergreen appearance might appear monotonous to some persons, still, were they residents, they would observe that the colour of the foliage is undergoing a constant change by the varying tints of the leaves in the different stages of their growth. These tints are far more lovely than the autumnal shades of England, and their brilliancy is enhanced by the idea that it is the bursting of the young leaf into life, the freshness of youth instead of the sere leaf of a past summer, which, after gilding for a few days the beauty of the woods, drops from frozen branches and deserts them. Every shade of colour is seen in the Ceylon forests, as the young leaves are constantly replacing those which have fallen without being missed. The deepest crimson, the brightest yellow and green of every shade, combine to form a beautiful crest to the forest-covered surface of the island.
There is no doubt, however, that there is too much wood in Ceylon; it prevents the free circulation of air, and promotes dampness, malaria, and consequently fevers and dysentery, the latter disease being the scourge of the colony. The low country is accordingly decidedly unhealthy.
This vast amount of forest and jungle is a great impediment to the enjoyment of travelling. The heat