On the Indian Hills

OOTACAMUND is really a very pleasant spot, amidst beautiful scenery, and with a delightful climate for the greater part of the year. The mornings are charmingly fresh and pleasant in September, and the early riser throws open his window and, as he inhales the sweet air, his eyes wander over the great undulating Neilgherry plateau, extending from the very town itself far away over a long succession of grassy curves, broken by scattered sholas, or patches of brushwood, with tumbled fragments of old rocks, to the distant mountains which form the buttresses of the uplands, and are themselves, under the changing lights of sun and cloud, wonderfully picturesque. Perhaps the best view of all is from the Library, looking north-east, where the hills rise up step by step, in even tiers of tree-clad slopes, to the higher most summits. But one can hardly look in any direction without being pleased, and the town of white houses dotted over the green expanse and broken up by clumps of trees always shows fresh and cheerful.

Neither in the way of society is "Ooty" deficient, and when the Governor-Bahadur and the Madras officials are "on the hills," there are plenty of parties and tumashas every week. There is a capital polo-ground, where many good games are played by officers and civilians before "store of ladies," whose presence leads to fiercely contested struggles and total disregard of wounds. There is also a concert-room, where auctions are held of the guns and properties of gentlemen "going home," and bazaars, where the English ladies keep stalls for charitable purposes. There is also some good mixed shooting in the neighborhood, chiefly of snipe, duck, woodcock, and plenty of hares; while if the sportsman goes beyond the limits of the town and up into the neighboring hills, there is no knowing what he may not meet.

Sometimes the shooting is too "mixed." Only a short time ago a party of gentlemen were out snipe shooting about half a mile from the back of Sylk's Hotel, and while the beaters were going through a shola, a fine ten-foot tiger came quietly out a few yards from one of the Englishmen. Being an old shikaree, he knew what to do, and -- the story is his own -- quietly substituting ball cartridges for his "No. 8," killed the beast with a single shot as it was staring at him. When out shooting on these hills, one should always be prepared for emergencies such as this.

Amongst the sporting capabilities of the place are those which the lively hill jackals give for hunting; and a pack of dogs is kept -- I had almost written for their amusement; but although the hounds are nominally maintained for the enjoyment of the English residents, they kill so seldom, owing to the swiftness and cunning of their tawny-skinned quarry, that really it is very doubtful if the jackals mind being hunted very much.

The first meet of the season took place soon after my arrival, and I witnessed a very good morning's sport, though, sub rosa, it was a thing strictly forbidden by my worthy doctor. It came about in this way. The solitude of the "bachelors' quarters" had been broken by the arrival of two or three gentlemen, and amongst them a chik-doree, such as myself, on the way to a distant estate, who brought with him a host of luggage and servants, and two grey "tats," on one of which that morning he offered me a mount. Feeble as I felt, I was yet totally unable to refuse; and as the dawn was breaking over the distant hills, and half the country lay in shadow and half in the faint grey light, we turned out, swallowed some hot coffee, put biscuits into our pockets, and joined the hounds and red-coated huntsmen as they came through the compound from the kennels on the hillside above. It was so cold that I could hardly feel the reins at first; nevertheless, we were met by several plucky ladies and many gentlemen, and ten minutes' ride brought us out into the open beyond the town, where we were soon hard at work.