en I first saw them, they were
barking to each other in a small glade within sixty paces of the jungle.
Dinner depending upon success, I stalked them with the greatest caution.
Taking Killbuck and Lena in the slips I crept from tree to tree without
the slightest noise; I had the wind, and if any dogs could kill a deer
in the difficult position in which the herd stood, these two would do
it. I got within sixty yards of the herd before they observed me, and as
they dashed off towards the jungle, I slipped the straining greyhounds.
A loud cheer to the dogs confused the herd, and they scattered to the
right and left as they gained the forest, the dogs being close up with
them, and Killbuck almost at a buck's throat as he reached the jungle.
Following as well as I could through the dusky jungle, I shortly heard
the cry of a deer, and on arriving at the spot I found Killbuck and Lena
with a buck on the ground. No deer had a chance with this wonderful
dog Killbuck. When he was once slipped, there was no hope for the game
pursued; no matter what the character of the country might be, it was
certain death to the deer. We gralloched the buck, and having fed the
dogs with the offal, we carried him on a pole to the place where we had
left the horses. On arrival, we deposited our heavy burden; and to
our satisfaction, we found all our people had arrived. The tents were
pitched, and the night-fires were already blazing, as daylight had
nearly ceased.

In the course of an hour, we were comfortably seated at our table, with
venison steaks, and chops smoking before us--thanks to the dogs, who
were now soundly sleeping at our feet. During the progress of dinner
I planned the work for the day following. We were now eight miles from
Nielgalla (Blue Rock), the village at which Banda resided, and I ordered
a man to start off at daybreak to tell him that I was in his country,
and to bring old Medima and several other good men (that I knew) to the
tent without delay. I proposed that we should, in the meantime, start
at daylight on the tracks of the two elephants that we had seen upon
the hills, taking Wallace and a few of the best coolies as gun-bearers.
Wallace is a Cochin man, who prides himself upon a mixture of Portuguese
blood. He speaks six different languages fluently, and is without
exception the best interpreter and the most plucky gun-bearer that
I have ever seen. He has accompanied me through so many scenes with
unvarying firmness t