There is no time when a man knows himself so thoroughly as when he depends upon himself, and this forms his excitement.

With a thorough confidence in the rifle and a bright lookout, he stalks noiselessly along the open glades, picking out the softest places, avoiding the loose stones or anything that would betray his steps; now piercing the deep shadows of the jungles, now scanning the distant plains, nor leaving a nook or hollow unsearched by his vigilant gaze.
The fresh breakage of a branch, the barking of a tree-stem, the lately nibbled grass, with the sap still oozing from the delicate blade, the disturbed surface of a pool; everything is noted, even to the alarmed chatter of a bird: nothing is passed unheeded by an experienced hunter.
To quiet, steady-going people in England there is an idea of cruelty inseparable from the pursuit of large game; people talk of "unoffending elephants," "poor buffaloes," "pretty deer," and a variety of nonsense about things which they cannot possibly understand.

Besides, the very person who abuses wild sports on the plea of cruelty indulges personally in conventional cruelties which are positive tortures.

His appetite is not destroyed by the knowledge that his cook his skinned the eels alive, or that the lobsters were plunged into boiling water to be cooked.

He should remember that a small animal has the same feeling as the largest and if he condemns any sport as cruel, he must condemn all.
There is no doubt whatever that a certain amount of cruelty pervades all sports.