It was a spin-off of a once popular British sport that’s now banned in the UK—fox hunting where mounted hunters, assisted by a pack of hounds, pursued and ran down a fox that would be ultimately savaged and killed by the dogs.
An old account of tea planting in Munnar in the 1890s, written by a pioneer’s wife, mentions that the Brits of that era practised a modified version of this blood sport. In the absence of the fox, they hunted the stag. And, to showcase their hardiness, they did it on foot, spurning horses. First the hounds would be blooded and released. Then when they had tracked down and brought the quarry to bay after a gruelling chase, a hunter would be given the privilege of delivering the coup de grace —knifing the exhausted stag through its heart.
By all accounts it was a risky manoeuvre that required considerable skill and agility since the fear-crazed stags were known to use their sharp antlers and flailing legs to deadly effect. One enthusiastic novice started off disastrously. When the baying hounds had grounded the stag, he panted up to it, hunting knife drawn. “Quick!” he cried breathlessly, “Where do I stab it?” “Here!” shouted his mentor above the commotion, pointing to the quarry’s shoulder—only to see the knife plunged right through his fist! Despite such misadventures the sport was popular since it helped to dispel the drudgery and monotony of tea planting at a time when there was hardly any social life. It no doubt conflicted with the Brits’ avowed sense of sportsmanship and fair play. But sometimes the ends did justify the means in those distant days, variety in recreation being considered essential then.
With the thoroughness that marked everything the Brits did, packs of hounds were systematically bred with imported stock and kennels were set up by aficionados. Records of the number of stags ‘stuck’ (to use the Brits’ own euphemism) and the exact dates were meticulously maintained, with the names of two ladies figuring prominently among those of the huntsmen.
Sometimes the dogs picked up the scent of a jackal—and the hunters unwittingly ended up pursuing a wilier quarry that usually gave them the slip. On one occasion a pack led the breathless Brits on a long wild-goose chase through difficult terrain before homing in on the quarry.
Incidentally, in the 1970s while preparing an area for tea planting, two rusted, long-bladed hunting knives were unearthed—probably lost during a deadly duel between man and stag.
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