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The Rifle and the Hound in Ceylon by Sir Samuel White Baker
page 77 of 283 (27%)

His head was perpetually swinging to and fro, and I was of course
accordingly altering my position to avoid his eye. At one of these half
turns he flapped his right ear just as his head came round, and I
observed a perfectly white mark, the size of a saucer, behind the ear,
in the exact spot for a fatal shot. I at once determined to try it, even
at this distance; at all events, if it failed, and he should charge, I
had a fair start, and by getting the spare gun from the tamarind-tree I
could make a defence at the cover.

His attention was completely absorbed in a luxurious repast upon a bed
of the succulent lotus. He tore up bunches of the broad leaves and snaky
stalks, and, washing them carefully with his trunk, he crushed the juicy
stems, stuffing the tangled mass into his mouth as a savage would eat
maccaroni. Round swung his head once more, the ear flapped, the mark was
exposed, but the ear again concealed it just as I had raised the rifle.
This happened several times, but I waited patiently for a good chance,
being prepared for a run the moment after firing.

Once more his head swung towards me: the sun shone full upon him, and I
raised the rifle to be ready for him if he gave me the chance. His ear
flapped forward just as his head was at a proper angle for a shot. The
mark shone brightly along the sights of the rifle as I took a steady
aim; the answer to the report of the gun was--a dull splash!

He had sunk upon his knees stone dead. I could hardly believe my eyes.
The sight of so large an animal being killed at such a distance by one
shot had an extraordinary effect. I heard a heathenish scream of joy
behind me, and upon turning round I perceived the now courageous
gun-bearers running towards me at their best pace. They were two of the
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