ns--Unmerited Chastisement--A Curate Appointed--Our
Labours at Civilisation--My Hall of Justice--Buffalo Hunting
Expedition.

Naturally fond of hunting, I often went to the home of my Indian
friend in the Marigondon mountains. Together we chased the stag,
and killed the various kinds of birds which abound in these regions
to such an extent that one may always choose between fifteen or
twenty different species of pigeons, wild ducks, and fowl, and it
frequently happened that I brought down five or six at a shot. The
manner of killing wild fowl (a sort of pheasant) much amused me. We
rode across the large plains, strewed with young wood, on good and
beautiful horses, broken in for the purpose; the dogs raised the game,
and, armed with whips, we endeavoured to knock the birds down at a
single blow, which is not so difficult as might be imagined. When a
number of the frightened flocks left the shelter of the wood we put
our steeds to the gallop, and it became a veritable steeple-chase,
such as amateur jockeys would much delight in. I also hunted the stag
with the lance, on horseback; this sport is likewise very amusing,
but, unfortunately, often attended with accidents. This is how they
occur:--The horses employed are so well trained to the sport, that
as soon as they perceive the stag it is no longer necessary, neither
is it possible, to guide them; they pursue the animal at the top of
their speed, and leap over every obstruction before them. The horseman
carries a lance seven or eight feet long, which he holds in readiness
to cast as soon as he thinks himself within reach of the stag. If he
misses his aim the lance sticks in the ground, and it then requires
great skill to avoid coming in contact with the opposite end, which
often wounds either the hunter or the horse. I speak not of the falls
to which one is liable from going at a furious gallop along unknown
and uneven roads. I had already enjoyed this sport during my first
sojourn at the Indian's, but, well as I acquitted myself, I was never
able to gain his permission that I should assist at a chase far more
dangerous, and which I might almost call a combat--that of the wild
buffalo. To all my questions my host had replied: "In this sport there
is much to fear: I would not expose you to the risk." He avoided, also,
taking me near that part of the plain touching upon the mountains of
Marigondon, where these animals could generally be found. However,
after rep