ELEPHANTS 67 
stampede, and, when we threw ourselves down to 
snatch a few hours’ sleep, we were convinced that 
the drive would proceed without trouble. The scouts 
reported that the herd was slightly depleted, but, 
even so, it was the largest herd that any of us 
had ever seen, much less driven. 
At nightfall, each day, the men were again in 
position, waiting for my signal; and, three nights 
later, we approached the stockade. The men went 
wild with delight. And above the uproar, I could 
hear the calls of the guides in the trees, telling us 
our distance from the trap. 
The big beasts jammed in the runway between 
the wings, heaving and struggling, and forcing 
those ahead of them into the trap. The walls of the 
wings groaned as they threw their bodies against 
the posts. The elephants bellowed, and the natives 
kept up a continual pandemonium. I mounted the 
platform and looked down; I could see nothing but 
a tossing flood of black that poured slowly from 
the runway into the trap. 
When the last elephant was inside, the ropes that 
held the gate were cut. The gate crashed down; 
bars were run through the sockets; the elephants 
were trapped. 
On my platform I shouted as loudly as any of the 
Malays. Torches were lighted and the men began 
dancing. I slipped to the ground and warned them 
against climbing up on the walls of the stockade, 
for I was fearful that the sight of men might en- 
