"The predicament was not a pleasant one. I had no weapon of defence, and with one spring or blow of his paw the beast could have annihilated me. To move I knew would only encourage his attack. It occurred to me at the moment that I had heard of the power of man's eye over wild animals, and accordingly I fixed my gaze as intently, as the agitation of such a moment enabled me, on his eyes: we stared at each other for some seconds, when, to my inexpressible joy, the beast turned and bounded down the straight open path before me." "This scene occurred just at that period of the morning when the grazing animals retired from the open patena to the cool shade of the forest: doubtless, the leopard had taken my approach for that of a deer, or some such animal. And if his spring had been at a quadruped instead of a biped, his distance was so well measured, that it must have landed him on the neck of a deer, an elk, or a buffalo; as it was, one pace more would have done for me. A bear would not have let his victim off so easily."
It is said, but I never have been able personally to verify the fact, that the Ceylon leopard exhibits a peculiarity in being unable entirely to retract its claws within their sheaths.
Of the lesser feline species the number and variety in Ceylon is inferior to that of India. The Palm-cat[1] lurks by day among the fronds of the coco-nut trees, and by night makes destructive forays on the fowls of the villagers; and, in order to suck the blood of its victim, inflicts a wound so small as to be almost imperceptible. The glossy genette[2], the "Civet" of Europeans, is common in the northern province, where the Tamils confine it in cages for the sake of its musk, which they collect from the wooden bars on which it rubs itself. Edrisi, the Moorish geographer, writing in the twelfth century, enumerates musk as one of the productions then exported from Ceylon.[3]
1: Paradoxurus typus, F. Cuv.
2: Viverra Indica, Geoffr., Hodgson.
3: EDRISI, Géogr., sec. vii. Jaubert's translation, t. ii. p. 72.
Dogs.—There is no native wild dog in Ceylon, but every village and town is haunted by mongrels of European descent, which are known by the generic description of Pariahs. They are a miserable race, acknowledged by no owners, living on the garbage of the streets and sewers, lean, wretched, and mangy, and if spoken to unexpectedly, shrinking with an almost involuntary cry. Yet in these persecuted outcasts there survives that germ of instinctive affection which binds the dog to the human race, and a gentle word, even a look of compassionate kindness, is sufficient foundation for a lasting attachment.
The Singhalese, from their religious aversion to taking away life in any form, permit the increase of these desolate creatures till in the hot season they become so numerous as to be a nuisance; and the only expedient hitherto devised by the civil government to reduce their numbers, is once in each year to offer a reward for their destruction, when the Tamils and Malays pursue them in the streets with clubs (guns being forbidden by the police for fear of accidents), and the unresisting dogs are beaten to death on the side-paths and door steps, where they had been taught to resort for food. Lord Torrington, during his tenure of office, attempted the more civilised experiment of putting some check on their numbers, by imposing a dog tax, the effect of which would have been to lead to the drowning of puppies; whereas there is reason to believe that dogs are at present bred by the horse-keepers to be killed for sake of the reward.
Jackal.—The Jackal[1] in the low country hunts in packs, headed by a leader, and these audacious prowlers have been seen to assault and pull down a deer. The small number of hares in the districts they infest is ascribed to their depredations. An excrescence is sometimes found on the head of the jackal, consisting of a small horny cone about half an inch in length, and concealed by a tuft of hair. This the natives call Narri-comboo, and they aver that this "Jackal's Horn" only grows on the head of the leader of the pack.[2] The Singhalese and the Tamils alike regard it as a talisman, and believe that its fortunate possessor can command by its instrumentality the realisation of every wish, and that if stolen or lost by him, it will invariably return of its own accord. Those who have jewels to conceal, rest in perfect security if along with them they can deposit a Narri-comboo, fully convinced that its presence is an effectual safeguard against robbers.
1: Canis aureus. Linn.