THE INDIAN ELEPHANT 13 



thoroughly cleaned out — a difficult and lengthy- 

 business 1 — were cured in the jail at Monywa, 

 and, as waste-paper boxes, now make a very 

 imposing addition to my collection of trophies. 



I cannot pretend to have felt many qualms 

 of compunction when I have been lucky enough 

 to knock over a big beast. One generally has 

 to work pretty hard for the shot, and at any 

 moment the tables may be turned on the hunter. 

 Moreover, elephants are mischievous brutes : the 

 amount of damage a herd will do to cultivation 

 has to be seen to be realised. I confess I did feel 

 mean when I bowled over my first elephant, a 

 youngster with tusks about 3 ft. long and 

 weighing something like 12 lbs. the pair. But 

 I have never since been guilty of such a crime, 

 and I may, perhaps, be allowed to plead in ex- 

 tenuation that not only was it my first elephant, 

 but that I had only a few hours previously let 

 off this very elephant, or one just like him, 

 because I was unwilling to fire a shot while a 

 chance remained of bagging a finer animal. 

 When, during a stampede, he gave me a second 

 chance, it was too much for poor human nature 

 as exemplified in the person of a beginner. I 

 tried to console myself with the reflection that 

 I had erred in common with Sanderson and 

 other noted nimrods of bygone days, when they 

 first essayed the finest of all sports. But it 

 was a very poor sort of consolation, and I felt 

 heartily ashamed of myself. 



