Two elephants rushed out to cross the little
nook within four yards of me, and I killed both by a right and left
shot. Wallace immediately pushed a spare rifle into my hand, just as a
large elephant, meaning mischief, came straight towards me, with ears
cocked, from the now staggered body of the herd. I killed her with the
front shot, both barrels having gone off at once, the heavy charge of
powder in the right-hand barrel having started the trigger of the left
barrel by the concussion. Round wheeled the herd, leaving their three
leaders dead; and now the race began.
It was a splendid forest, and the elephants rushed off at about ten
miles an hour, in such a compact troop that their sterns formed a living
barrier, and not a head could be seen. At length, after a burst of about
two hundred yards, the deep and dry bed of a torrent formed a trench
about ten feet in width.
Not hesitating at this obstacle, down went the herd without missing a
step; the banks crumbled and half-filled the trench as the leaders
scrambled across, and the main body rushed after them at an
extraordinary pace.
I killed a large elephant in the act of crossing; he rolled into the
trench, but struggling to rise, I gave him the other barrel in the nape
of the neck, which, breaking his spine, extinguished him.
