Falling Upon Our
Hands And Knees, We Crept Between The Grassy Ant-Hills Towards The Two
Leading Elephants, Who Were Facing Us.
The wind was pretty brisk, and
the ant-hills effectually concealed us till we were within seven paces
of our game.
The two leaders then both dropped dead to the front shot,
and the fun began. The guns were so well handed up, that we knocked over
the six elephants before they had given us a run of twenty yards, and we
all closed up and ran under the tail of the retreating elephant that we
had devoted to the ropes. He was going at about seven miles an hour; we
therefore had no difficulty in keeping up with him, as we could run
between the ant-hills much faster than he could. The ropes were in
readiness, and with great dexterity, one of the Moormen slipped a noose
over one of his hind feet, as he raised it from the ground; and drawing
it tight, he dropped his coil. We all halted, and allowed the
unconscious elephant to run out his length of line; this he soon did,
and the rope trailed after him like a long snake, we all following at
about the centre of the length of rope, or twenty paces behind him. He
was making for the jungle, which was not far distant, and we were
running him like a pack of hounds, but keeping a gun in readiness, lest
he should turn and charge.
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