III.  CARNIVORA.—­Bears.—­Of the carnivora, the one most dreaded by the natives of Ceylon, and the only one of the larger animals which makes the depths of the forest its habitual retreat, is the bear[1], attracted by the honey which is to be found in the hollow trees and clefts of the rocks.  Occasionally spots of fresh earth are observed which have been turned up by them in search of some favourite root.  They feed also on the termites and ants.  A friend of mine traversing the forest near Jaffna, at early dawn, had his attention attracted by the growling of a bear, which was seated upon a lofty branch thrusting portions of a red-ant’s nest into its mouth with one paw, whilst with the other he endeavoured to clear his eyebrows and lips of the angry inmates which bit and tortured him in their rage.  The Ceylon bear is found only in the low and dry districts of the northern and south-eastern coast, and is seldom met with on the mountains or the moist and damp plains of the west.  It is furnished with a bushy tuft of hair on the back, between the shoulders, to which the young are accustomed to cling till sufficiently strong to provide for their own safety.  During a severe drought which prevailed in the northern province in 1850, the district of Caretchy was so infested by bears that the Oriental custom of the women resorting to the wells was altogether suspended, as it was a common occurrence to find one of these animals in the water, unable to climb up the yielding and slippery soil, down which his thirst had impelled him to slide during the night.

[Footnote 1:  Prochilus labiatus, Blainville.]

Although the structure of the bear shows him to be naturally omnivorous, he rarely preys upon flesh in Ceylon, and his solitary habits whilst in search of honey and fruits, render him timid and retiring.  Hence he evinces alarm on the approach of man or other animals, and, unable to make a rapid retreat, his panic rather than any vicious disposition leads him to become an assailant in self-defence.  But so furious are his assaults under such circumstances that the Singhalese have a terror of his attack greater than that created by any other beast of the forest.  If not armed with a gun, a native, in the places where bears abound, usually carries a light axe, called “kodelly,” with which to strike them on the head.  The bear, on the other hand, always aims, at the face, and, if successful in prostrating his victim, usually commences by assailing the eyes.  I have met numerous individuals on our journeys who exhibited frightful scars from these encounters, the white seams of their wounds contrasting hideously with the dark colour of the rest of their bodies.

The Veddahs in Bintenne, whose chief stores consist of honey, live in dread of the bears, because, attracted by its perfume, they will not hesitate to attack their rude dwellings, when allured by this irresistible temptation.  The Post-office runners, who always travel by night, are frequently exposed to danger from these animals, especially along the coast from Putlam to Aripo, where they are found in considerable numbers; and, to guard against surprise, they are accustomed to carry flambeaux, to give warning to the bears, and enable them to shuffle out of the path.[1]