We built a hunting bivouac in a snug corner of the plains, which gloried in the name of 'Elk Lodge.' This famous hermitage was a substantial building, and afforded excellent accommodation: a verandah in the front, twenty-eight feet by eight; a dining-room twenty feet by twelve, with a fireplace eight feet wide; and two bed-rooms of twenty feet by eight.
Deer-hides were pegged down to form a carpet upon the floors, and the walls were neatly covered with talipot leaves.The outhouses consisted of the kennel, stables for three horses, kitchen, and sheds for twenty coolies and servants.
The fireplace was a rough piece of art, upon which we prided ourselves extremely.A party of eight persons could have sat before it with comfort.Many a roaring fire has blazed up that rude chimney; and dinner being over, the little round table before the hearth has steamed forth a fragrant attraction, when the nightly bowl of mulled port has taken its accustomed stand.I have spent many happy hours in this said spot; the evenings were of a decidedly social character.The day's hunting over, it was a delightful hour at about seven P.M.--dinner just concluded, the chairs brought before the fire, cigars and the said mulled port.
Eight o'clock was the hour for bed, and five in the morning to rise, at which time a cup of hot tea, and a slice of toast and anchovy paste were always ready before the start.The great man of our establishment was the cook.
This knight of the gridiron was a famous fellow, and could perform wonders; of stoical countenance, he was never seen to smile.His whole thoughts were concentrated in the mysteries of gravies, and the magic transformation of one animal into another by the art of cookery; in this he excelled to a marvellous degree.The farce of ordering dinner was always absurd.It was something in this style: 'Cook!' (Cook answers)'Coming, sar!' (enter cook): ' Now, cook, you make a good dinner; do you hear?' Cook: `Yes, sar; master tell, I make.'--`Well, mulligatawny soup.' 'Yes, sar.'--'Calves' head with tongue and brain sauce.' 'Yes, sar.'--' Gravy omelette.' 'Yes, sar.'--'Mutton chops.' 'Yes, sar.'--'Fowl cotelets.' `Yes, sar.'--'Beefsteaks.' 'Yes, sar.'--'Marrow-bones.' 'Yes, sar.'--'Rissoles.' 'Yes, sar.' All these various dishes he literally imitated uncommonly well, the different portions of an elk being their only foundation.
The kennel bench was comfortably littered, and the pack took possession of their new abode with the usual amount of growling and quarrelling for places; the angry grumbling continuing throughout the night between the three champions of the kennel--Smut, Bran, and Killbuck.After a night much disturbed by this constant quarrelling, we unkennelled the hounds just as the first grey streak of dawn spread above Totapella Peak.
The mist was hanging heavily on the lower parts of the plain like a thick snowbank, although the sky was beautifully clear above, in which a few pale stars still glimmered.Long lines of fog were slowly drifting along the bottoms of the valleys, dispelled by a light breeze, and day fast advancing bid fair for sport; a heavy dew lay upon the grass, and we stood for some moments in uncertainty as to the first point of our extensive hunting-grounds that we should beat.There were fresh tracks of elk close to our 'lodge,' who had been surveying our new settlement during the night.Crossing the river by wading waist-deep, we skirted along the banks, winding through a narrow valley with grassy hills capped with forest upon either side.Our object in doing this was to seek for marks where the elk had come down to drink during the night, as we knew that the tracks would then lead to the jungle upon either side the river.We had strolled quietly along for about half a mile, when the loud bark of an elk was suddenly heard in the jungle upon the opposite hills.In a moment the hounds dashed across the river towards the well-known sound, and entered the jungle at full speed.Judging the direction which the elk would most probably take when found, I ran along the bank of the river, down stream, for a quarter of a mile, towards a jungle through which the river flowed previous to its descent into the lower plains, and I waited, upon a steep grassy hill, about a hundred feet above the river's bed.From this spot I had a fine view of the ground.Immediately before me, rose the hill from which the elk had barked; beneath my feet, the river stretched into a wide pool on its entrance to the jungle.This jungle clothed the precipitous cliffs of a deep ravine, down which the river fell in two cataracts; these were concealed from view by the forest.I waited in breathless expectation of 'the find.' A few minutes passed, when the sudden burst of the pack in full cry came sweeping down upon the light breeze; loudly the cheering sound swelled as they topped the hill, and again it died away as they crossed some deep ravine.In a few minutes the cry became very distant;as the elk was evidently making straight up the hills; once or twice Ifeared he would cross them, and make away for a different part of the country.The cry of the pack was so indistinct that my ear could barely catch it, when suddenly a gust of wind from that direction brought down a chorus of voices that there was no mistaking: louder and louder the music became; the elk had turned, and was coming down the hill-side at a slapping pace.The jungle crashed as he came rushing through the yielding branches.Out he came, breaking cover in fine style, and away he dashed over the open country.He was a noble buck, and had got a long start; not a single hound had yet appeared, but I heard them coming through the jungle in full cry.Down the side of the hill he came straight to the pool beneath my feet.Yoick to him! Hark forward to him!
and I gave a view halloa till my lungs had well-nigh cracked.I had lost sight of him, as he had taken to water in the pool within the jungle.
