Solitary Elephant's Death 221 



. . . But he turns and continues in his first direction. 

 I run a little forward and stop to await him, my rifle 

 barrels already searching for his heart under his gray 

 and wrinkled skin, which moves when he walks like 

 the folds of an accordion. ... At last I have it. and 

 my first shot is fired, the bullet striking his body 

 with a dull sound. ... I had kept the second shot 

 with which to defend myself, but seeing the elephant 

 keep straight on, I fire from where I am when he is a 

 few yards farther away. Hastily recharging, I skirt 

 the bushes at a run, without showing myself, in 

 the same direction as he. . . . Suddenly he stops, 

 and, in the middle of the plain, thirty yards from us, 

 again turns round in my direction. Notwithstanding 

 the danger and the imminence of the charge, for I 

 clearly perceive he is trying to see or scent his enemy, 

 I cannot help admiring him. How splendid he is 

 thus ! His head on high, his trunk raised, and his 

 ears like large shields stretched out, he resembles 

 one of those powerful and dignified bronzes of colossal 

 dimensions which sculptors place on monuments. . . . 

 But the bullets will soon do their work, and before I 

 have fired again he makes off with bent head, takes 

 a few more steps, his trunk hanging down, with a 

 sad, downcast gait which sadly contrasts with that of 

 a short time before. After stopping and oscillating 

 for a moment, like a tottering house, he slips down on 

 his hind-quarters, then falls over heavily on his side, 

 throwing his trunk in the air as though to make a 

 last appeal to man's clemency. At the very spot 

 where a minute before there rose, in all its savage 



