It is most discouraging to lose good dogs through the stealthy attacks of leopards, and in looking back to the list of casualties among the pack when I kept hounds in Ceylon it is distressing to see the number which were taken by these unsparing animals. If a hound is lost in the jungle, it will certainly sit down and howl, thereby exhibiting considerable intelligence, as it is, in fact, crying for assistance; but such a cry will attract the ever-wary leopard, who will probably approach by leaping from tree to tree, and pounce upon the unfortunate dog before it is aware of the impending danger. The hound that would have offered a stout resistance if boldly attacked face to face, has no more chance than an Irish landlord when shot at by an assassin secreted behind a wall by the roadside. This noiseless approach may be imagined from an incident which occurred to me in Abyssinia, when watching a pool by moonlight, in a deep bend of the river Royan during the dry season; all streams had evaporated, excepting an occasional deep hole in a sudden curve of the exhausted bed. Hours had been passed, but nothing larger than antelopes had appeared. We were sitting beneath a very large tree completely denuded of leaves, and the moon was shining brightly, producing a sharp outline of every bough. Suddenly my wife pulled my sleeve and directed my attention to a large animal crouched upon the branches exactly above us. I might have taken a splendid shot, but I at first imagined it to be a dog-faced baboon (Cynocephalus) that had been asleep upon the tree. I stood erect to obtain a clearer view, and at once the object sprang to the ground within a few feet of us and bounded into the jungle. This was a leopard, which had probably reached the tree by means of some neighbouring branch, and so noiselessly that we had not discovered its presence. The animal had evidently winded us, and determined to reconnoitre our position. In every country the natives are unanimous in declaring that the leopard is more dangerous than the lion or tiger, and I quite agree in their theory that when any dangerous animal is met with, the traveller should endeavour to avoid its direct gaze. It is an error to suppose that the steady look from the human eye will affect an animal by a superior power, and thereby exert a subduing influence; on the contrary, I believe that the mere fact of this concentration of a fixed stare upon the responding eyes of a savage animal will increase its rage and incite attack. If an animal sees you, and it imagines that it is itself unobserved, it will frequently pass by, or otherwise retreat, as it believes that it is unseen, and therefore it has no immediate dread; but if it is convinced that you mean mischief, by staring it out of countenance, it will in all probability take the initiative and forestall the anticipated attack.