of
the crushed creature was a shapeless mass of fur and flesh!

It was a painful spectacle to those in the tree; but it was succeeded by
a sight that was pleasant to all three--the sight of the elephant's hind
quarters as it walked off toward the woods, evidently with the intention
of retiring from the ground.

Whether its vengeance had been satisfied by the destruction of the
panda, or whether it had gone off in search of Fritz, none of the three
could conjecture; but whatever may have been the motive, certain it is
that it guided the rogue from the spot, and raised a siege that was on
the point of becoming exceedingly irksome.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

"DEATH TO THE ROGUE."

As soon as the elephant was fairly out of sight, the besieged took
counsel among themselves about descending to the earth. They were
sorely tired of the positions which they had been so long constrained to
keep; for, to tell the truth, sitting astride upon the hard branch of a
tree, though easy enough for a short spell, becomes in time so painful
as to be almost unendurable. Caspar especially had grown impatient of
this irksome inaction; and highly exasperated at the _rogue_ who was
forcing it upon them. Several times had he been on the point of
forsaking his perch, and stealing down for his gun; but Karl, each time
perceiving his design, very prudently persuaded him to forego it.

All were anxious enough to get out of the tree; and they would have
vacated their sents at once on the disappearance of their dreaded enemy,
had they been certain that he was gone for good; but they were
suspicious that it might be only a temporary absence--perhaps some
_ruse_ of the rogue to decoy them down: for elephants of this character
have been known to practise tricks with almost as much cunning as rogues
among men.

While holding counsel as to how they had best act, Ossaroo cut short
their deliberations by volunteering to descend first; and by stealing a
short way along the track which the elephant had taken, ascertain
whether he was really gone from the ground, or only tying in ambush near
the skirt of the forest.

As the shikaree could creep through underwood as silently as a snake,
there could be no great danger in his doing this, provided he did not go
too far. He could not fail to see the elephant before approaching too
near to it; and in the event of its turning and pursuing him, he could
once more flee to their tree-fortress.

He scarcely w