ee, including those who died of wounds. It was a
great fight and, except for those who perished in the pitfalls during
the first rush, all practically hand to hand.

Jana we interred where he fell because we could not move him, within a
few feet of the body of his slayer Hans. I have always regretted that
I did not take the exact measurements of this brute, as I believe the
record elephant of the world, but I had no time to do so and no rule or
tape at hand. I only saw him for a minute on the following morning, just
as he was being tumbled into a huge hole, together with the remains of
his master, Simba the King. I found, however, that the sole wounds upon
him, save some cuts and scratches from spears, were those inflicted by
Hans--namely, the loss of one eye, the puncture through the skin over
the heart made when he shot at him for the second time with the little
rifle Intombi, and two neat holes at the back of the mouth through which
the bullets from the elephant gun had driven upwards to the base of the
brain, causing his death from haemorrhage on that organ.

I asked the White Kendah to give me his two enormous tusks, unequalled,
I suppose, in size and weight in Africa, although one was deformed
and broken. But they refused. These, I presume, they wished to keep,
together with the chains off his breast and trunk, as mementoes of their
victory over the god of their foes. At any rate they hewed the former
out with axes and removed the latter before tumbling the carcass into
the grave. From the worn-down state of the teeth I concluded that this
beast must have been extraordinarily old, how old it is impossible to
say.

That is all I have to tell of Jana. May he rest in peace, which
certainly he will not do if Hans dwells anywhere in his neighbourhood,
in the region which the old boy used to call that of the "fires that
do not go out." Because of my horrible failure in connection with this
beast, the very memory of which humiliates me, I do not like to think of
it more than I can help.

For the rest the White Kendah kept faith with us in every particular. In
a curious and semi-religious ceremony, at which I was not present, Lady
Ragnall was absolved from her high office of Guardian or Nurse to a god
whereof the symbol no longer existed, though I believe that the priests
collected the tiny fragments of ivory, or as many of them as could be
found, and preserved them in a jar in the sanctuary. After this had
been done