e to-morrow."

So ended Hans's narrative of his day's adventures.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

THE ELEPHANT'S SLEEPING-ROOM.

The field-cornet was far from satisfied with his day's work. His first
attempt at elephant-hunting had proved a failure. Might it not be always
so?

Notwithstanding the interest with which he listened to Hans's narrative
of the day's adventures, he felt uneasy in his mind when he reflected
upon his own.

The elephant had escaped so easily. Their bullets seemed to have injured
him not the least. They had only served to render him furious, and
dangerous. Though both had hit him in places where their wounds should
have been mortal, no such effect was produced. The elephant seemed to go
off as unscathed, as if they had fired only boiled peas at him!

Would it be always so?

True, they had given him but two shots. Two, if well directed, may bring
down a cow-elephant and sometimes a bull, but oftener it requires ten
times two before a strong old bull can be made to "bite the dust."

But would any elephant wait until they could load and fire a sufficient
number of shots?

That was an undecided point with our tyro elephant-hunters. If not, then
they would be helpless indeed. It would be a tedious business spooring
the game afoot, after it had once been fired upon. In such cases the
elephant usually travels many miles before halting again; and only
mounted men can with any facility overtake him.

How Von Bloom sighed when he thought of his poor horses! Now more than
ever did he feel the want of them--now more than ever did he regret
their loss.

But he had heard that the elephant does not always make off when
attacked. The old bull had shown no intention of retreating, after
receiving their shots. It was the odd conduct of Swartboy that had put
him to flight. But for that, he would no doubt have kept the ground,
until they had given him another volley, and perhaps his death-wound.

The field-cornet drew consolation from this last reflection. Perhaps
their next encounter would have a different ending. Perhaps a pair of
tusks would reward them.

The hope of such a result, as well as the anxiety about it, determined
Von Bloom to lose no time in making a fresh trial. Next morning,
therefore, before the sun was up, the hunters were once more upon the
trail of their giant game.

One precaution they had taken, which they had not thought of before. All
of them had heard that an ordinary leaden bu