“Look-out,” said the Major, whose rifle was discharged as he spoke, and was quickly followed by those of Alexander and Swinton.
“He’s down; be quick and load again. Omrah, give me the other rifle.”
“Take care! take care!” was now cried on all sides, for the fall of the leading elephant and the volleys of musketry from the Hottentots had so frightened the herd, that they had begun to separate and break off two or three together, or singly, in every direction. The shrieks and trumpetings, and the crashing of the boughs so near to them, were now deafening; and the danger was equally great. The Major had but just levelled his other rifle when the dense foliage close to him opened as if by magic, and the head of a large female presented itself within four yards of him.
Fortunately, the Major was a man of great nerve, and his rifle brought her down at his feet, when so near to him that he was compelled to leap away out of the reach of the trunk, for she was not yet dead. Another smaller elephant followed so close, that it tumbled over the carcass of the first, and was shot by Alexander as it was recovering its legs.
“Back, sirs, or you will be killed,” cried Bremen, running to them; “this way—the whole herd are coming right upon you.” They ran for their lives, following the Hottentot, who brought them to a high rock which the elephants could not climb, and where they were safe.
They had hardly gained it when the mass came forward in a cloud of dust, and with a noise almost inconceivable, scrambling and rolling to and fro as they pressed on in a close-wedged body. Many were wounded and tottering, and as they were left behind, the Caffres, naked, with their assaguays in their hands, leaping forward and hiding, as required, running with the greatest activity close up to the rear of the animals, either pierced them with their assaguays, or ham-strung them with their sharp-cutting weapons, crying out in their own tongue to the elephants, “Great captain! don’t kill us—don’t tread upon us, mighty chief!”—supplicating, strangely enough, the mercy of those to whom they were showing none. As it was almost impossible to fire without a chance of hitting a Caffre, our travellers contented themselves with looking on, till the whole herd had passed by, and had disappeared in the jungle below.
“They have gone right in the direction of the waggons,” said Swinton.
“Yes, sir,” replied the Hottentot, Bremen; “but we must not interfere with them any more; they are now so scattered in the jungle, that it would be dangerous. We must let them go away as fast as they can.”
They remained for a few minutes more, till every elephant and Caffre had disappeared, and then went back cautiously to the spot from whence they had first fired, and where they had such a fine prospect of the valley. Not an elephant was to be seen in it; nothing but the ravages which the herd had committed upon the trees, many of which, of a very large size, had been borne to the ground by the enormous strength of these animals. They then proceeded to the spot where the great bull elephant had fallen by the rifle of Major Henderson.
They found that the ball had entered just under the eye. It was a monster that must have stood sixteen feet high by Bremen’s calculation, and it had two very fine tusks. While they were standing by the carcass of the animal, the armed Hottentots returned from the pursuit, and stated that seven elephants had been despatched, and others were so wounded that they could not live. They now set to work to take the teeth out of the animal, and were very busy, when a Hottentot came running up, and reported that the herd of elephants in their retreat had dashed through the camp, and done a great deal of mischief; that a male elephant had charged the waggon of Major Henderson, and had forced his tusk through the side; that the tusk had pierced one of the casks of liquor, which was running out, although not very fast, and that the waggon must be unloaded, to get out the cask and save the rest of the liquor.