258 AFRICAN GAME TRAILS 



me rock, as I stood unsteadily on my perch, and I failed 

 to hit the brain. But the bullet, only missing the brain 

 by an inch or two, brought the elephant to its knees; as it 

 rose I floored it with the second barrel. The blast of the 

 rifl e > by the way, was none too pleasant for the other 

 men on the log and made Cuninghame's nose bleed. Re- 

 loading, I fired twice at the next animal, which was now 

 turning. It stumbled and nearly fell, but at the same 

 moment the first one rose again, and I fired both barrels 

 into its head, bringing it once more to the ground. Once 

 again it rose an elephant's brain is not an easy mark to 

 hit under such conditions but as it moved slowly off, 

 half stunned, I snatched the little Springfield rifle, and 

 this time shot true, sending the bullet into its brain. As it 

 fell I took another shot at the wounded elephant, now dis- 

 appearing in the forest, but without effect. 



On walking up to our prize it proved to be not a cow, 

 but a good-sized adult (but not old) herd bull, with thick, 

 short tusks, weighing about forty pounds apiece. Ordi- 

 narily, of course, a bull, and not a cow, is what one desires, 

 although on this occasion I needed a cow to complete the 

 group for the National Museum. However, Heller and 

 Cuninghame spent the next few days in preserving the skin, 



which I afterward gave to the University of California; and 



* 



I was too much pleased with our luck to feel inclined to 

 grumble. We were back in camp five hours after leaving 

 it. Our gun-bearers usually felt it incumbent on them to 

 keep a dignified bearing while in our company. But the 

 death of an elephant is always a great event; and one of 

 the gun-bearers as they walked ahead of us campward, 

 soon began to improvise a song, reciting the success of 



