But Swartboy was just the man to make
a hole; and in less than ten minutes he had sunk three, each over a foot
deep, and not a half-inch wider than the thickness of the stakes!

You may be curious to know how he accomplished this. You would have dug
a hole with a spade, and necessarily as wide as the spade itself. But
Swartboy had no spade, and would not have used it if there had been
one--since it would have made the holes too large for his purpose.

Swartboy sunk his holes by "crowing"--which process he performed by
means of a small pointed stick. With this he first loosened the earth in
a circle of the proper size. He then took out the detached mould, flung
it away, and used the point of the "crowing stick" as before. Another
clearing out of mould, another application of the stick; and so on, till
the narrow hole was deemed of sufficient depth. That was how Swartboy
"crowed" the holes.

They were sunk in a kind of triangle near the bottom of the tree, but on
the side opposite to that where the elephant would stand, should he
occupy his old ground.

In each hole Swartboy now set a stake, thick end down and point upwards;
some small pebbles, and a little mould worked in at the sides, wedged
them as firmly as if they had grown there.

The stakes were now daubed over with soft earth, to conceal the white
colour of the wood; the remaining chips were picked up, and all traces
of the work completely obliterated. This done the hunters withdrew from
the spot.

They did not go far; but choosing a large bushy tree to leeward, all
three climbed up into it, and sat concealed among its branches.

The field-cornet held his long "roer" in readiness, and so did Hendrik
his rifle. In case the ingenious trap of Swartboy should fail, they
intended to use their guns, but not otherwise.

It was now quite noon, and the day had turned out one of the hottest.
But for the shade afforded by the leaves, they would have felt it very
distressing. Swartboy prognosticated favourably from this. The great
heat would be more likely than anything else to send the elephant to his
favourite sleeping-place under the cool shady cover of the cameel-doorn.

It was now quite noon. He could not be long in coming, thought they.

Sure enough he came, and soon, too.

They had not been twenty minutes on their perch, when they heard a
strange, rumbling noise, which they knew proceeded from the stomach of
an elephant. The next moment they saw one emerge