Endowed With That Wonderful Power Of Scent Peculiar To
Elephants, He Travels In The Day-Time DOWN The Wind; Thus Nothing Can
Follow Upon His Track Without His Knowledge.
He winds his enemy as the
cautious hunter advances noiselessly upon his track, and he stands with
ears thrown forward, tail erect, trunk thrown high in the air, with its
distended tip pointed to the spot from which he winds the silent but
approaching danger.
Perfectly motionless does he stand, like a statue in
ebony, the very essence of attention, every nerve of scent and hearing
stretched to its cracking point; not a muscle moves, not a sound of a
rustling branch against his rough sides; he is a mute figure of wild and
fierce eagerness. Meanwhile, the wary tracker stoops to the ground, and
with a practised eye pierces the tangled brushwood in search of his
colossal feet. Still farther and farther he silently creeps forward,
when suddenly a crash bursts through the jungle; the moment has arrived
for the ambushed charge, and the elephant is upon him.
What increases the danger is the uncertainty prevailing in all the
movements of a 'rogue'. You may perhaps see him upon a plain or in a
forest. As you advance, he retreats, or he may at once charge. Should he
retreat, you follow him; but you may shortly discover that he is leading
you to some favourite haunt of thick jungle or high grass, from which,
when you least expect it, he will suddenly burst out in full charge upon
you.
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