22G MASTEE TAKES COMPASSION ON US. 



ers into two parties, four of whom were to go in advance, and the rest to 

 come with me behind, we began with care, and at a much slower pace 

 than we had brought the hunt to this point, the really dangerous work of 

 following the wounded tusker. We did not think it possible he could go far. 



We followed him, however, for three miles, and I shall never forget the 

 terrible dread we had of losing him. There was but little blood, and I felt 

 afraid to look at my men ; for was I not conscious that I deserved reproachful 

 looks ? I ought to have got nearer to the elephant and made sure work of 

 him on the spot, instead of behaving like a novice. However, I could not 

 believe that he would escape in the long-run with that leaden pill in him. 

 There was a fallen tree in the path about four and a half feet in girth, and 

 some two miles from where I shot him ; he had got over this considerable 

 obstacle, when we thought if he had been very bad he would have gone 

 round it. My men exclaimed "Aijyo! ayyo!" (alas ! alas !) at this evidence 

 of his strength. 



After going for about three miles, our hopes sinking with every step, 

 we came up with the leading trackers, who were halted in consultation at a 

 spot where the elephant had at last fallen or lain clown. This revived our 

 spirits considerably ; we felt certain our quarry could not now escape, and 

 from lamenting my men changed their tune entirely, and began to praise a 

 god — Mastee — who was reverenced as the presiding spirit of these jungles, 

 and to whom they had been promising cocoa-nuts, and latterly even a sheep, 

 for his assistance. 



We had hardly renewed the hunt when a breaking bamboo was heard 

 ahead, and one of the leading trackers ran back to say that the elephant 

 was just before them, but that the jungle was close and difficult to shoot in, 

 and that the others would send back word when he got into better ground. 

 Before long the signal was given, and I, Jaffer, and Birram, went forward 

 with the best Kurraba — a curly-pated young fellow called Bussava. We 

 were soon only forty yards behind the elephant, which was walking slowly 

 alono - through open forest, interspersed with a few bamboo-clumps. The 

 grass was a little too long, being up to our necks, and rather dry and noisy, 

 so we kept our distance, hoping for a chance of closing in better ground. 

 The elephant seemed almost exhausted, as I observed he panted heavily. I 

 felt a pang at the suffering which the cruelty of giving him a body-shot was 

 occasioning, and I resolved never to shoot another elephant except in the 

 head. To steal up to within ten paces, and drop an elephant dead before 

 he is aware of danger, is the poetry of the sport ; to kill him by body-shots 

 the prose. The latter is certainly more dangerous, as following and again 

 encountering wounded elephants is likely to lead to a fight ; but the cruelty 



