BAGGED AT LAST 313 



Pethaung stream, which was about 30 yards wide, strewn 

 with huge rocks and boulders and high shelving banks. The 

 elephant's tracks now headed down-stream, and as there did 

 not seem to be much chance of our coming up with him that 

 evening, it being then about 5.30 p.m. and some time past 

 sunset, I called a halt, and sent back the tracker to ascertain 

 how far off our coolies were. About a minute or two after his 

 departure, my gun-bearer and I were startled by hearing a 

 crash in the jungle on the opposite bank some 150 yards 

 down-stream, and at the same time an elephant, with a 

 magnificent pair of tusks, walked down the side of the bank 

 into full view, and came up the middle of the river-bed in 

 our direction, and stood motionless beside a pool, facing us 

 50 yards off. My gun-bearer and I were fortunately lying 

 down out of sight at the time, resting under an overhanging 

 clump of bamboos by the river-side, and also hidden by a few 

 low stunted bushes which were growing in mid-stream close to 

 us. At this moment the all-unconscious tracker, who was 

 fortunately some way off, began blowing on a hollow bamboo, 

 with the intention of bringing up the coolies. The elephant, 

 fortunately, did not seem to notice the noise, and after standing 

 in mid-stream for about half a minute, lazily flapping his ears, 

 he began to move up-stream slowly towards us. The wind was, 

 fortunately, in our favour, so wriggling into a kneeling posture, 

 I crouched down to receive him with the 8-bore when he 

 came near enough. My gun-bearer in the interval, who was 

 sitting crouched down behind me with my spare rifle, was in 

 a great state of excitement, as he was continually urging me 

 to shoot, saying: "Shoot, sir, shoot ; he will wind us and be off ! " 

 The elephant in the meantime was walking along steadily and 

 slowly towards us, with the intention of apparently returning 

 along the route by which he had come. I waited till he 

 approached to within about 15 yards, and then taking a 

 steady aim with the 8-bore, fired for the bump or forehead 

 shot. On receiving the bullet he swerved quickly to one side, 

 with a loud, sharp, shrill scream of pain and anger, and made for 

 the opposite bank. Before reaching it, however, he received 

 my left barrel ; the ball, a hardened spherical one, entering 

 behind the right shoulder, penetrating the heart, and bringing 



