42 IN MALAY FORESTS. 



Pain and wrath were pictured in every ungainly 

 action and hideous feature. High in the air he held 

 his head as he turned round, high above us as we 

 squatted close to the ground ; and his neck was fairly 

 exposed to a shot, but I waited to let him show yet 

 more. Then how slowly it was I cannot say, but 

 very slowly it seemed his shoulder swung round, and 

 at last I was afforded a quartering shot at the heart 

 and lungs. I fired, and knew that he was mine. A 

 short rush of some thirty yards, and he fell in an 

 open grassy glade, never to rise, and never again to 

 see Changkat Larang. 



Though he could not rise, the poor brute was not 

 dead ; and as he moved his head lizard-like from side 

 to side in his efforts to raise his ponderous body, he 

 seemed more like a prehistoric animal than one of our 

 times. The head of a lizard it was exactly, and the 

 body of an elephant was joined on to it. Another shot 

 killed it. When the other men came up, the two local 

 Malays were wildly excited. Malias was nearly off 

 his head. He examined the feet whose tracks we had 

 followed so long and so far, the skin, the head, the 

 teeth that killed Japaringonen and the two other 

 men who had died so long ago that their names had 

 been forgotten, the horn that was said to carry the 

 famous blue which cured Kanda Daud. He touched 

 and handled every part of the animal, and returned 

 to touch and handle it with fresh interest in fact, 

 he behaved exactly like a terrier puppy with its first 

 rabbit. But old Pa' Senik, when he had uttered a 

 short charm over the body to preserve us all from the 

 consequences of its death, stood back a little space 



