AMONG THE TUSKERS.. 351 



Again, they never know when they are beaten fre- 

 quently you may riddle them with bullets, and they 

 seem still to have a charge in them, and if a final shot 

 takes away that power, they will sink down and groan 

 out a remonstrance at the treatment they have received. 



However, I soon got my scattered forces assembled, 

 for none had received very serious injury, and en avant 

 was the cry. In three miles we overtook the herd. One 

 of them was a splendid tusker, and through proper 

 management and care I succeeded in giving him the stern 

 shot. His travelling days I saw were then over. So I 

 singled out another, and tried to treat him in the same 

 cavalier manner, but he was the most pugnacious, wide- 

 awake brute I ever came across. First, when I was about 

 to pull the trigger, he turned almost completely round, 

 and charged so persistently, that if the little mare had 

 not known what she was about, and been on her guard, 

 we must have come to grief, for the long-reaching trot of 

 elephants takes them far more rapidly over the ground 

 than any one unacquainted with them would believe. 

 Again and again I went within thirty yards to lire, but 

 the brute would not give me a chance to pick out a 

 vital place, for the head was always towards me, and the 

 instant I halted to shoot was the signal for a charge. 



The mare was as cool and self-possessed as ever she 

 was in her life. The moment I dropped the reins on her 

 withers she stood, and without guidance, as soon as 

 the shot was fired, avoided the irate animal's attack. 



I thought this a good opportunity for trying the 

 head-shot I had practised in the East, although the 

 distance was long. Crack went my right barrel over 

 Euby's ears. The ball hit just above the junction of 

 the trunk with the forehead. Down came the game, but 



