TACKLING A TUSKER. 61 



shaking of trees, followed by successive crashes,. 

 as if some heavy animal was tumbling about. 

 Parting the branches, I peered through. All I 

 could see was a troop of ' lungoors ' (monkeys !). 

 At first I thought the elephant must be down 

 in his agonies, and close at hand. But, no ; no 

 prone tusker was visible. Then the real state 

 of the case flashed across my mind, viz., that he 

 had nearly fallen into an old elephant pit, but had 

 gone on. On approaching close, this surmise 

 proved correct. There was the huge beast's foot- 

 prints on the very edge of the pit, small particles 

 of the earth still tumbling into it, and testifying 

 to the narrow escape he had had ! 



Oh ! the bitter disappointment, as I thought of 

 how even a few more inches of ground might 

 have put my foe within my reach. How I cursed 

 my bad luck ! though the result of my shot was 

 more attributable to my own want of skill, and 

 the excitement I was labouring under. But it 

 was no good crying over spilt milk; and so, all 

 we could do was to take up the tracks, and follow 

 the elephant, on the chance of eventually coming 

 up with him. This we did ; and, to make a long 

 story short, we went on and on, till the setting 

 sun warned us that we must discontinue further 

 pursuit ; and so, at last, reluctantly, I had to 

 tear myself away, and face a long, weary trudge 



