All being ready for action, Roder now rode slowly
toward the head of the cunning old bull, who was quietly awaiting an
opportunity to make certain of some one who might give him a good
chance.
Roder Sherrif rode a bay mare that, having been thoroughly trained to
these encounters, was perfect at her work. Slowly and coolly she
advanced toward her wary antagonist until within about eight or nine
yards of the elephant's head. The creature never moved, and the mise en
scene was beautiful. Not a word was spoken, and we kept our places amid
utter stillness, which was at length broken by a snort from the mare,
who gazed intently at the elephant, as though watching for the moment of
attack.
One more pace forward, and Roder sat coolly upon his mare, with his eyes
fixed upon those of the elephant. For an instant I saw the white of the
eye nearest to me. "Look out, Roder, he's coming!" I exclaimed. With a
shrill scream the elephant dashed upon him like an avalanche.
Round went the mare as though upon a pivot, and away, over rocks and
stones, flying like a gazelle, with the monkey-like form of little Roder
Sherrif leaning forward, and looking over his left shoulder as the
elephant rushed after him.
