B. Was Standing Behind Me On The Opposite Side Of The Small Open,
Or About Seven Yards From The Jungle.
I suddenly heard a deep guttural sound in the thick rattan within four
feet of me; in the same instant the whole tangled fabric bent forward,
and bursting asunder, showed the furious head of an elephant with
uplifted trunk in full charge upon me!
I had barely time to cock my rifle, and the barrel almost touched him as
I fired. I knew it was in vain, as his trunk was raised. B. fired his
right-hand barrel at the same moment without effect from the same cause.
I jumped on one side and attempted to spring through the deep mud: it
was of no use, the long grass entangled my feet, and in another instant
I lay sprawling in the enraged elephant's path within a foot of him. In
that moment of suspense I expected to hear the crack of my own bones as
his massive foot would be upon me. It was an atom of time. I heard the
crack of a gun; it was B.'s last barrel. I felt a spongy weight strike
my heel, and, turning quickly heels over head, I rolled a few paces and
regained my feet. That last shot had floored him just as he was upon me;
the end of his trunk had fallen upon my heel. Still he was not dead, but
he struck at me with his trunk as I passed round his head to give him a
finisher with the four-ounce rifle, which I had snatched from our
solitary gun-bearer.
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