CHAPTER II.

A DAY'S HUNTING ON THE NEILGHERRY HILLS.

T was on one of those heavenly mornings peculiar to the climate of the Neilgherry Hills, where the brilliancy of a tropical sky is combined with the freshness of an European sunrise, that three handsome Arab horses, accoutred for the field, and each led by a native horsekeeper, might be seen slowly passing to and fro in front of one of the pretty little thatched cottages which, scattered

irregularly over the sides of the hills, form the Cantonment of Ootacamund.

Presently a group of three sportsmen, in hunting dresses, issued from the doorway, and the impatient steeds snorted and pawed the ground, as if to welcome the approach of their riders.

"A fine scenting day this, lads," exclaimed the elder of the party, looking up towards the sky, and carefully buttoning a warm spencer over his green hunting-coat.

The speaker was a man apparently about fifty years of age: his hair, which had originally been dark brown, was slightly sprinkled with gray, and the corpulence of his figure would, at first sight, have led one to suppose that his sporting-days were

over. But the healthy, though dark, colour of his cheek, showed that he had spent much of his time in the open air, whilst his firm step and piercing eye convinced one that he could still breast a hill, or squint along a clouded barrel with some hopes of

success.

The second person in the group was a tall wiry figure, whose large bones and well-knit joints gave promise of great strength and unusual activity. He was accoutred in a short round jacket of fustian, the colour of which approached as nearly as possible to the faded tints of withered fern or dry bamboo. His legs were cased in long leggings of deer-skin, which reached halfway up the thigh, and were fastened by a strap to his girdle; his head was covered by a small cap of Astracan fur, and an ammunition-pouch of dressed bear-skin was tightly buckled round his waist by a broad leathern belt, into which was also thrust a hunting-knife of unusual size, with a buckhorn handle handsomely mounted in silver. His accoutrements altogether were those of a half reclaimed savage; but the aristocratic cast of his features, the proud glance of his eye, and his erect military carriage, declared at once the gentleman, the soldier, and the daring sportsman. His complexion had been tanned to the colour of mahogany by long exposure to a tropical sun, his short upper lip was shaded by black mustaches, and the expression of his countenance gave one the idea of a silent and reserved person, who, from long habit and perhaps from having spent much of his time in solitary rambles through the trackless forest, had acquired much of the stoical philosophy of an American Indian, and, like him, was very cautious of betraying his feelings. A keen observer of human nature, however, might have detected, in the occasional flash of his dark eye, evident tokens of a fiery and restless spirit, well disciplined, indeed, hut ready to burst forth, if occasion required, like the sudden eruption of a volcano.

The third person, who stood by his side, formed a striking

contrast, both in appearance and dress, to the weather-beaten sportsman. He was a slender, fair-haired lad, apparently about eighteen years of age, whose rosy complexion, and boyish manner, showed that he had but lately emerged from the thraldom of school discipline, and had not as yet braved the fiery climate of India for more than a few months. In short, he had all the appearance of a gentlemanlike young man, who had but lately arrived from England, and was still in all the happy ignorance of early griffinage. His glossy new hat, fashionably cut green hunting-coat, breeches of virgin-white, and well polished top-boots, were sufficient to convince the most casual observer that he belonged to that unhappy race of mortals who, for twelve months after their arrival in the Honourable Company's dominions, are considered fair game both by Europeans and Natives, and are accordingly quizzed and plundered without mercy, for the very good, and no doubt satisfactory, reason, that they are only Griffins. The party had just descended the steps of the veranda, and were about to mount their horses, when the sylph-like figure of a lovely girl appeared in the doorway, and rushing towards the elder of the party, with her fair hair streaming in the breeze, playfully imprinted a kiss on his weather-beaten cheek.

"Ah! you little rogue!" exclaimed he; "what has roused you from your bed at this early hour?"

"The desire to say good morning to you, Papa, and to wish you success. You know you never have good sport unless I see you off and give you a sprig of my charmed heather-bush to stick in your cap. The last time I did so you killed that large tiger which now stands stuffed in the veranda. But as you are so ungrateful as to forget the potency of your little Fairy's spell, you shall have no heather to-day. My gentle Cousin shall bear the palm," cried she, as she turned towards the younger of the party. "Come hither, Charles; you have declared yourself my true Knight, and as such are bound by all the laws of chivalry to

wear my colours in your cap. Kneel, sir, and receive the favour with becoming humility."

Charles knelt at the feet of his Fair Kinswoman, whilst she, with a roguish look of mock gravity, fixed in his cap a small bunch of heath-a plant which even in the cool climate of the Neilgherry Hills is reared as an exotic-saying, as she did so,

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Arise, Sir Knight; be daring and bold, do credit to my badge, and presume not to return into this presence without some trophy worthy to be laid at my feet."

The elder Lorimer was by this time in the saddle, and shouting impatiently to his nephew.

Charles hastily kissed the hand of the pretty tyrant, while she, doing her best to look affronted at his presumption, turned from him with a dignified toss of her little head, courtesied demurely to Captain Mansfield, and bounded into the house like a young antelope. The two young men mounted in haste, and following the elder Lorimer, dashed down the hill at a smart gallop.

Charles was, or was not, in love with his pretty cousin Kate, just as my Fair Readers (if I am so far honoured as to have any) may think probable: I am no judge of such matters. But as he rattled his fiery little Arab down the steepest part of the hill, with a careless seat and slackened rein, he certainly appeared absent, to say nothing of his humming to himself, but loud enough to be overheard by his companions, a love-lorn ditty, about music, love, and flowers. In this amusement, however, he was soon interrupted by a long whistle of astonishment from his uncle, accompanied by a thundering injunction, to mind his bridlehand, and not break the horse's knees, although he was perfectly welcome to take what liberties he liked with his own neck.

"Why, Charles," continued old Lorimer, "you look like a moon-struck poet, more fit to wield a grey goose-quill than a rifle. Music, love, and flowers, indeed! Hang it, the boy must either be in love, or a born simpleton. Stay till you hear my

pups giving tongue together, like a chime of bells, with the crack

of a two-ounce rifle, and the whistle of a rugged bullet by way of accompaniment, and then you will have some notion what music means. That is the music for the woods, my lad, and so you will think, in time, when I have got you fairly blooded; but till then, I pray you, let us have no more Arcadian ditties."

"Well, well," interrupted Charles, "never mind, Uncle; you know I have not yet had much experience in field-sports, and you can hardly expect me to be an enthusiast in the art; but I trust that, under your good tuition, I shall soon improve. I have been told that pea-fowl and jungle-fowl are numerous in these hills; and I have with me a double-barrelled gun, by Purdie, which, I flatter myself, will do some execution amongst them."

"Pea-fowl, jungle-fowl, and a double-barrelled gun!" exclaimed the Old Gentleman, checking his horse, and turning towards his nephew, with a look of the most sovereign contempt. "Why, you misbegotten whelp, do you take me for one of those thistle-whipping vermin who prowl about the woods with a smooth-bored popgun, murdering partridges and quail? who flog their unhappy curs if they show blood enough to give tongue on the slot of a deer, and get drunk for very joy, if, by any lucky chance, one of the imps succeeds in circumventing a pea-fowl? Do you suppose, sir, that those noble hounds, which were sent on this morning to the hunting-ground, attended by twenty wellarmed beaters, are kept to scour the woods for quail, or that my favourite rifle, Kill-devil,' which, this very season, has cut a ragged hole in the dun hides of thirty deer, not to mention a few bears and tigers, is a weapon to be soiled with the blood of jackals? I tell thee, boy, I have not had a smooth barrel in my hands these twenty years: the thing does very well for schoolboys to shoot hedge-sparrows withal; but a rifle, sir, a rifle, is the only weapon fit for a man to handle, and no one shall hunt with my hounds that uses any other."

"I crave your pardon, my worthy Uncle!" said the good