2O2 TALES OF A NOMAD. 



himself and make off, so 1 hastily opened the breech of 

 my gun and endeavoured to reload. I was using green 

 cases, which had been considerably exposed to damp, and 

 they had swelled. I succeeded in withdrawing the empty 

 shell in the right barrel about a quarter of an inch but could 

 get it no farther. Meanwhile the elephant was screaming 

 furiously, and having spun himself round in my direction 

 extended his trunk towards me. 



My gun was for the moment useless, and, as discretion 

 is the better part of valour, I thought it was fully time to 

 be off. I bolted for the nearest large tree. The elephant 

 recovered himself and went away crashing through the 

 jungle, and I was left standing there with the bare satis- 

 faction of having dropped three elephants and only 

 secured two of them. 



The natives now came up, and after extracting the 

 shells from my gun, I went up and gave the broken- 

 backed elephant anorher shot in the head, which settled 

 him. 



The moral of this story is, in damp climates use brass 

 shells. It was very exciting work while it lasted, but I 

 have no desire whatever for a repetition of the perfor- 

 mance. 



On my way home, when not a mile from the camp, 1 

 had a very pretty double shot. 



We were approaching a sort of glade or open patch 

 of two or three acres in extent which adjoined the river. 

 It was a favourite spot for deer and wild cattle in the 

 evenings, for the grass was sweet, and the bank of the 

 river sloped gradually down to the water's edge over a 

 clean belt of sand and stones. About this glade were 

 scattered patches of long brackens, and in amongst them 

 was a kind of grass which the game loved. 



