A broken nipple in my long two-ounce rifle took me to Trincomalee, about
seventy miles out of my proposed route. Here I had it punched out and
replaced with a new one, which I fortunately had with me. No one who has
not experienced the loss can imagine the disgust occasioned by an
accident to a favourite rifle in a wild country. A spare nipple and
mainspring for each barrel and lock should always be taken on a shooting
trip.

In passing by Kandelly, on my return from Trincomalee, I paid a second
visit to the lake. This is very similar to that of Minneria; but the
shooting at that time was destroyed from the same cause which has since
ruined Minneria--'too many guns.' The buffaloes were not worthy of the
name; I could not make one show fight, nor could I even get within three
hundred yards of them. I returned from the plain with disgust; but just
as I was quitting the shores of the lake I noticed three buffaloes in
the shallows about knee-deep in the water, nearly half a mile from me.
They did not look bigger than dogs, the distance was so great.

There is nothing like a sheet of water for trying a rifle; the splash of
the ball shows with such distinctness the accuracy or the defect in the
shooting. It was necessary that I should fire my guns off in order to
clean them that evening: I therefore tried their power at this immense
distance.

The long two-ounce fell short, but in a good line. I took a rest upon a
man's shoulder with the four-ounce rifle, and, putting up the last
sight, I aimed at the leading buffalo, who was walking through the water
parallel with us. I aimed at the outline of the throat, to allow for his
pace at this great distance. The recoil of the rifle cut the man's ear