its huge sides, looking curiously around. At this moment the loud
reports of two rifles rang out from the forest, and the remaining
elephant, alarmed, moved off in an oblique direction, which would bring
it close to the spot where stood Dona Isabel and the soldier.

The former seemed quite stupefied with wonder as the great mass came
onward at a trot, swinging its long trunk to and fro.

"Ride for your life, Dona Isabel!" said Hughes; "keep for the open, and
ride hard."

Hughes loosed his hold of the reins, and the pony started off. Isabel,
turning in her saddle, fixed her gaze on the elephant, and in so doing
turned the pony's head right for the forest.

Hughes shouted loudly, but without effect; the girl, wholly absorbed
with her astonishment, knew not her danger. For a second the elephant
paused, then, trumpeting with rage, dashed after her.

The right moment had been lost. Captain Hughes, in his endeavours to
make Isabel turn, had neglected it, and when he did raise his rifle to
fire, the elephant was at forty paces distant, turned from him, and
going at full speed. To level his rifle, aim, and fire, was the work of
a second. The elephant slackened its pace, but only for a moment, the
soldier, his rifle at the trail, dashing madly after it. On swept the
pony at top speed, but the elephant gained on it. Isabel's hat had
fallen, her long, jet-black hair was floating on the wind. The forest
lay before her, through which she could not ride many paces; but she
knew it not, for her gaze was still rivetted on the elephant. On they
swept, the soldier dashing after them madly, shouting to her yet to turn
for the open. The forest line was reached, and in a moment, swept from
her saddle by the branches, Dona Isabel lay on the ground, the riderless
pony dashing on. On, too, came the elephant, after the horse,
trumpeting furiously. It passed over the prostrate form, its huge foot
within an inch of the fair head, and the next moment its tusks were
buried in the flanks of the agonised horse, which had been stopped by
the forest undergrowth. Bearing it down, the huge elephant actually
pinned the animal to the ground, where it held it impaled and writhing
with agony, then deliberately kneeling on the bleeding carcass literally
crushed it into a shapeless mass. Rising, the elephant turned from the
dead pony, trumpeting once more as it saw lying on the ground, quite
inanimate, the form of the rider. Dom Francisco a