e, had been killed was an
open space, thickly studded with rocks embedded in the earth, and one
side of this open was overhung with mimosas of a good height and
strength. Clambering up one of these, I lay out upon the spreading
branches. Jambula remained below.

The night watch wore on--even the night side of life seemed hushed in
this abode of wizardry and fear. Suddenly all the blood within me
tingled and burned. Something was moving. And then above the ghostly
wreathings of the white mist I could see the gigantic head--the huge
horns curving upwards--of the ghost-beast.

Only the head was visible as, tilted upwards, nose in air, it moved
above the sea of vapour, to and fro, as though seeking for something or
somebody--for a fresh victim, perhaps--and I thought it might indeed
soon find one. And as I looked the mist suddenly rolled away, revealing
the dark form of Jambula, standing upright against a small rock.

For the moment the beast did not see him. It continued to run hither
and thither in the moonlight, and as I marked its gigantic proportions,
my heart sank, for I knew that to kill such a thing as this
single-handed was very nearly the hardest task ever entrusted to me.

It was huge in the dim light--black as night, and as large as an
elephant almost. There was that in the very size of the thing no less
than in the glaring ferocity of its eyes--which was enough to turn a
man's heart to water--for it could not be a thing of this earth. How,
then, could it be slain?

Now it began to mutter, like the growlings of a heavy thunderstorm, as
it ran to and fro, shaking its horrible head, and its dark, shaggy
frontlet of hair. _Whau_! That was a fearful sight as the thing drew
nearer. What of Jambula! He had not moved, beyond half turning his
head to get a better view of the horror. Would his heart fail him? I
almost expected it would.

Ha! It had seen him. It dropped into a sort of stealthy crouch, more
like that of a leopard or a lion than the movement of any horned animal;
and thus it came up swiftly behind him.

But Jambula was not asleep--oh no! There was no lack of wakefulness in
him. In a moment he whirled behind a rock, as the ghost-bull, uttering
a roar that shook the world, came at him with the swiftness of a
lightning flash.

Then began a scene indeed. Jambula, watching his opportunity, flitted
from rock to rock, but not less swiftly did the monster come after him--
seeming to fl