278 THE HUNTING GROUNDS 



breathless from my run, or that my rifle, which 

 weighed sixteen pounds, was too heavy, I know not ; 

 but my left arm dropped the moment I pulled the 

 trigger, (not from nervousness, for I was perfectly 

 cool, and never lost my presence of mind for a 

 moment,) and my shot took effect four inches too 

 low, entering the fleshy part of the root of the trunk 

 instead of penetrating the brain. It failed to stop 

 him, and before I could get out of the way the huge 

 brute was on me ; I saw something dark pass over 

 me, felt a severe blow, and found myself whizzing 

 through the air ; then all was oblivion. 



When I came to, I found myself lying on my 

 face in a pool of blood, which came from my nose, 

 mouth, and ears. Although nearly choked with 

 clotted gore, a sense of my perilous situation flashed 

 across my mind, and I strove to rise and look after 

 my antagonist, but he was nowhere to be seen. 



I picked myself up, and although fearfully bruised 

 and shaken, found that no bones were broken. I 

 was lying on the top of the bank, although quite 

 unable to account to myself how I got there.* In 

 the dry bed of the nullah I saw my rifle, and after 

 much painful exertion managed to crawl down and 

 get it. The muzzle was filled with sand, which I 

 cleared out as well as I could ; and then, sitting by 

 the edge of the stream, began to wash away the 

 blood and bathe my face and head. Whilst so em- 



* The elephant must have flung me a considerable distance 

 with his trunk, as the bank was upwards of six feet high. 



