THE BLAT ELEPHANT. 201 



blood and convinced perhaps of the futility of its 

 search, it moved slowly away. We came out from 

 our hiding-places, and all were very shaky. I picked 

 up my rifle and reloaded it, and then, after a few 

 minutes' rest to settle our nerves, we set off again 

 after the elephant. When we had gone about a 

 quarter of a mile, Ahman, who followed in my tracks, 

 step for step, tapped my shoulder. 



" He is going to plug up his wound," he whispered, 

 pointing to a dwarf palm from which some leaves had 

 been torn. I stared at him without at first taking in 

 his meaning, and then, thinking of his quaint stories, 

 continued my silent tracking without making a reply. 

 A few yards farther on Ahman pointed to a place 

 where the elephant had picked up in its trunk a small 

 quantity of soft oozy mud. " Aih ! Is he not clever ? 

 There is the poultice." This time I stopped, and 

 asked him what he meant. He replied that the 

 elephant would insert a plug of the palm -leaves 

 into the opening of the wound in its chest, and 

 then cover the whole wound over with mud. It 

 seemed almost incredible, but the time was not one 

 for arguing about animal intelligence, and I followed 

 the tracks again. And, sure enough, before we had 

 gone much farther the blood that had so plenteously 

 besmeared our path suddenly dwindled to a scanty 

 sprinkle, and shortly afterwards to a few thin drops 

 at intervals. 



After another hour or so the tracks grew firmer, 

 showing that the animal was staggering less and was 

 recovering its strength. Later we came to a fallen 

 tree some five feet in diameter that lay across a bit 



