I Was
Once In Pursuit Of An Elephant Which Led Me Across The Plain At
Minneria, When I Suddenly Observed A Large Bull Buffalo Making Towards
Me, As Though To Cut Me Off In The Very Direction In Which I Was
Advancing.
Upon his near approach I noticed numerous bloody cuts and
scratches upon his neck and shoulders, which were evidently only just
made by the horns of some bull with whom he had been fighting.
Not
wishing to fire, lest I should alarm the elephant, I endeavoured to
avoid him, but this was no easy task. He advanced to within fifty paces
of me, and, ploughing up the ground with his horns, and roaring, he
seemed determined to make an attack. However, I managed to pass him at
length, being determined to pay him off on my return, if he were still
in the same spot.
On arriving near the position of the elephant, I saw at once that it was
impossible to get him: he was standing in a deep morass of great extent,
backed by thick jungles, and I could not approach nearer than 150 paces.
After trying several ruses to induce him to quit his mud-bath and come
on, I found it was of no use; he was not disposed to be a fighter, as he
saw my strong position upon some open rising ground among some large
trees. I therefore took a rest upon the branch of a tree, and gave him a
shot from the four-ounce rifle through the shoulder.
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