i2o ADVENTURES OF AN ELEPHANT HUNTER ch. 
there rings out on the night the startled cry of 
‘ Moto ! Moto ! ’ (Fire ! Fire!). Out rush the 
unsuspecting inhabitants to assist in extinguishing 
the flames, and as they emerge from their doors, 
spears and knives flash, rifles crack, and dark 
bodies fall heavily into the dust, writhe and 
quiver and finally lie still. Realizing in a frenzy 
of dread that they are the victims of another 
raid, the unhappy villagers raise the shrill and 
fear-instilling cry of ‘ Nkondo! NkondoF (War! 
War!). A wild panic now ensues; terror-stricken 
natives run hither and thither, shrieking ; those who 
have escaped the immediate attentions of the raiders 
and have not lost their presence of mind in this dire 
extremity, dash swiftly into the pori (forest), and 
get away from the scene of butchery under cover 
of the friendly darkness. Groans of pain and 
piteous cries of entreaty fill the air and mingle 
with hoarse shouts and fierce oaths where, here 
and there, a villager, brought to bay and determined 
to sell life dearly, fights tooth and nail until 
overcome by superior numbers. And amidst all 
this hubbub can be heard the low, moaning cry 
of the native who is mortally hurt and in his 
dying moments invokes the aid of the woman 
who gave him birth—‘A mio! A mio ! ’ (My 
mother ! My mother!)—a cry that will haunt those 
who have heard it throughout a lifetime, 
