d
his tactics. He wound his trunk round the fallen tree and lifted. The
tree stirred, but fortunately the broken branches embedded in the spongy
soil, and some roots, which still held, prevented it from being turned
over, though he lifted it so much that, had it occurred to him, he could
now easily have drawn me out with his trunk. Again he hoisted with all
his mighty strength, and I saw that the tree was coming, and roared
aloud for help. Some shots were fired close by in answer, but if they
hit the bull, their only effect was to stir his energies to more active
life. In another few seconds my shelter would be torn away, and I should
be done for. A cold perspiration burst out over me as I realized that I
was lost. Then of a sudden I remembered that I had a pistol in my belt,
which I often used for despatching wounded game. It was loaded and
capped. By this time the tree was lifted so much that I could easily get
my hand down to my middle and draw the pistol from its case. I drew and
cocked it. Now the tree was coming over, and there, within three feet of
my head, was the great brown trunk of the elephant. I placed the
muzzle of the pistol within an inch of it and fired. The result was
instantaneous. Down sunk the tree again, giving one of my legs a
considerable squeeze, and next instant I heard a crashing sound. The
elephant had bolted.

By this time, what between fright and struggling, I was pretty well
tired. I cannot remember how I got from under the fallen tree, or indeed
anything, until I found myself sitting on the ground drinking some peach
brandy from a flask, and old Indaba-zimbi opposite to me nodding
his white lock sagely, while he fired off moral reflections on the
narrowness of my escape, and my unwisdom in not having taken his advice
to go on foot. That reminded me of my horse--I got up and went to look
at it. It was quite dead, the blow of the elephant's trunk had fallen
on the saddle, breaking the framework, and rendering it useless. I
reflected that in another two seconds it would have fallen on _me_. Then
I called to Indaba-zimbi and asked which way the elephants had gone.

"There!" he said, pointing down the gully, "and we had better go after
them, Macumazahn. We have had the bad luck, now for the good."

There was philosophy in this, though, to tell the truth, I did not feel
particularly sharp set on elephants at the moment. I seemed to have had
enough of them. However, it would never do to show t