v A NARROW SQUEAK 139 



waited to charge. Before she could do this I knocked 

 her flat on her side with the one barrel of Lancaster. 

 Not dead yet ! Seeing her struggling violently, and 

 knowing she would be on her legs in a moment, I ran 

 back to the Panea (who stood behind a tree at a safe 

 distance), got Moore, ran back, and stood about 5 

 yards from and straight before the struggling elephant. 

 It took her a long time to get up. She never gave me 

 a good certain chance until she was full on her legs. 

 The minute she got up she began to come slowly 

 towards me, the very Old Harry twinkling in her eye. 

 I took aim as if firing for ;iooo. The only result 

 was the snap of the cap and a fiz-z-z ! Before I could 

 say ' knife ' she rolled up her trunk, gave one yell, and 

 was almost on me before I could turn. I twisted like 

 anything, and cut for my life. Deerfoot is a child to 

 me on occasions like this ; but as fate would have it, 

 the third stride I took brought me straight at the 

 branchy part of a fallen tree. I rammed the spurs in, 

 and thought of the old jumps at Harrow, but it was 

 too much out of the swampy ground. I lit right in 

 the middle of it, and the rifle was twirled out of my 

 hand. Another awful yell in my very ears, accom- 

 panied with the crash of the branches close behind me, 

 gave me for a second that horrid feel, ' Begad, it's all 

 UP at last ! ' With a frantic kick I sent myself sprawl- 

 ing on my head free of the tree, scrambled anyhow and 

 everyhow to the nearest tree. It was a very narrow 

 squeak, Charley, old man, and served me right. I was 

 getting too confident. I was all right now ; she had 

 pulled up, and was standing in the middle of the tree, 

 just where I stuck, and was apparently contemplating 

 the mechanism of my Moore rifle. Leaving her, I crept 

 off, reloaded Lancaster, and dropped her dead. Thus 

 died the five. Please send this epistle to my mother. 



